


Unbound

by through_shadows_falling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Animal Transformation, Dean/Aaron becomes Dean/Cas, F/F, F/M, Familiar Dean, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Soulmates, Temporary Character Death, Witch Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 85,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Witches and Familiars depend on each other to survive, Dean Winchester remains Unbound, and his magic—and life—is dwindling. Dean has accepted his fate, even if his family hasn't. After all, what can he do about it? </p><p>But then a man stumbles into his life who just might be Dean's Witch, but for some mysterious reason, refuses to Bond. On top of that, there's trouble brewing on the horizon, and it seems that Dean's caught right in the thick of it. </p><p>Can Dean convince the stranger that they need each other, before it's too late for the both of them—and their world?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Dean saw him, it was a blustery September day.

Dean was wearing his dad’s old leather jacket, which he hunched into when the wind picked up. The sidewalks were fairly empty for midday, and he could imagine why – fall had only just settled, but here in Sioux Falls, it got cold fast.

For a second, Dean almost considered one of his other forms, knowing feathers or fur would be warmer than this, but he quickly dispelled the thought.

First, there were far too many humans around, and he couldn’t risk being seen.

Second, his magic had dwindled so much that he wouldn’t be able to manage a whole transformation anyways.

And half-transformations were painful. Dean had learned that the hard way, when he hit 20 and his Unbound status really sunk in. It appeared that even though _he_ could survive just fine without a Witch, his magic had other ideas.

Sighing, Dean pushed forward, his eyes catching on a bus pulling up at the curb just ahead. A single occupant stepped off onto the sidewalk, a bedraggled man with mussed brown hair, dirty pants, and a red hoodie poking out from a threadbare jean jacket. He had no bags whatsoever, and Dean watched him shiver as he gazed around.

The bus pulled away with a hiss, and the man’s gaze fell on Dean, who froze about ten steps from him. He was scruffy, and his eyes were sunken into a tired, craggy face, yet for some reason Dean couldn’t explain, there was something about him that tugged at his gut, like radar going _ping!_

Apparently the man didn’t feel the same way, though, because he immediately tore his eyes away and took off in the opposite direction. Dean stood there and gaped after him. His gut lurched, but Dean shook his head and continued to his destination, forgetting all about his strange encounter.

At The Roadhouse, Dean was greeted inside by its owner, Ellen, a matronly woman with dirty-blond hair. She stood behind the bar, a clipboard in her hands as she took inventory. She glanced away from it to give him a shrewd look.

“Boy, you look like you just saw a ghost,” she said, and Dean snorted.

“Nah. Not seen one of those in a while.”

Ellen harrumphed, but her eyes were still critical. Dean sighed dramatically, knowing what was coming.

“I’m _fine_. And no, it’s not my magic, so you don’t need to ask.”

Ellen’s voice was serious. “Alright. Well, you let me know—.”

“I know. I will,” Dean navigated around the bar stools to the gate leading to the back. “Benny in yet?” he called over his shoulder.

“He’s prepping for dinner now. You better get your ass in gear.”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Dean said. He rolled his eyes and tied on an apron. Washing his hands, he quickly joined Benny in the kitchen, who was elbows deep in a pile of mushrooms.

“Need some help?”

The beefy man nodded, pulling a bare arm back to wipe at the sweat already beading his brow. He grinned, his lips tugging at his beard, and Dean saw a flash of his vampire fangs. 

“Feel free to step in anytime, brother,” he said in a Cajun accent.

Dean grinned. “Sure thing, dude.”

Now _this_ , this he could do. Cooking was one of his greatest joys, ever since he was a kid. He remembered his mom making a pleased sound when she tried his first homemade omelet, and then a time later when his dad and brother wolfed down his entire lasagna in one hour.

Sometimes, Dean felt like cooking was the only thing he could do right.

“Sam’s back at school now, huh?” Benny asked, passing Dean a knife to chop the mound of fungi. He moved on to start peeling onions.

“Yeah. His last year, at least at Stanford.”

“Oh? He looking at grad school?”

“Law school, actually,” Dean said, smiling down at his hands. Sam, his brother, was the smart one in the family. Dean knew he’d go far, especially since he had been Bound at the appropriate age.

Their childhood neighbor, Sarah, had always had magical talent. At 16, she painstakingly crafted a talisman that resonated with Sam, who was just a year her senior (which made sense, seeing as most Bonded pairs were around the same age). The two were Bound, and Sam waited for her to graduate before they both headed to California for school. They were academics at heart, and while Sam concentrated on law, wanting to help keep the Witch population legally under wraps, Sarah went for art, her specialty. She was gifted at sigils, runes, and syllabaries, which was helpful when decoding ancient spells or tomes. It was all par for the course for Witches, so, unlike Dean, she was actually useful.

Not that Dean was a Witch, but being a Familiar made him feel like he should be doing something… _more_. He had looked into police work once, actual police work instead of the illegal hunting he sometimes did with his dad. After all, when his parents married, they united powerful Familiar clans, and the result was that Dean possessed the rare gift of transforming into more than one designation – he could become both canines _and_ birds, which was awesome for tracking down baddies.

Baddies who were supernatural, of course, since normal cops didn’t know this brand of evil. Dean had enjoyed the thought of protecting innocent people by taking down criminals outside the law, but he couldn’t do much anymore, not with his magic the way it was.

“You still in there?”

“Huh?” Dean shook his head.

Benny frowned at him. “I just asked how it was visiting home. Cause you saw Sam off before he left for school, right?” He paused, adding more softly, “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Geez. Do I look like I’m about to drop dead?”

Benny just shook his head.

Dean let a few minutes pass before he answered. “Visiting home was fine. Lawrence was how it always was. And so were my parents.”

“They still getting talismans in the mail for ya?”

Dean stiffened, remembering the desperate look in his mom’s eyes when she passed him his packages. Somehow, she still had hope that he would be Bound after all these years.

Honestly, Dean wished she would just give up.

Dean scoffed. “Yep. No dice. Too bad for them that I’m broken.” His chuckle fell flat when Benny leveled him a serious look. “What? It’s true.”

“That’s _so_ far from the truth, brother,” Benny said. Dean was quiet, letting the subject drop, at least out loud. In his head, he cursed the system yet again.

Dean hated that Familiars were _dependent_ on Witches. It had to do with magic currents or grounding energies or something like that.

Sam could probably explain it in better detail, but the way Dean saw it, Familiars were basically rechargeable batteries. A Witch filled their Familiars with raw magic, which allowed them to transform.

In turn, a Familiar stored a Witch’s power and gave it back when the Witch needed a boost, or was running low.

Witches and Familiars both had inherent magic, but their stores weren’t unlimited, which was why the Witch-Familiar Bond was necessary.

That Dean had gone Unbound for so long was, therefore, troubling. The only other recorded case of an Unbound Familiar had ended in death due to total magical depletion at the ripe old age of 26. Incidentally, Dean was going to be turning that exact age in January.

The best part was that magic had a way of just _leaking_ out of you, even if you didn’t use it. So really, Dean was screwed no matter what. He figured that, at this point, his best bet was to do things that made him happy with the little time he had left. After all, he could keel over at any moment.

Wasn’t that a comforting thought?

“Mom asked me to move back home again,” Dean spoke up suddenly, finishing up with the mushrooms and moving on to the potatoes.

Benny was pounding chicken cutlets for the night’s chicken marsala special, and when he didn’t say anything, Dean continued.

“Told her no. Again.”

“You know she’s just worried.”

“Yeah, but I don’t need her hovering around waiting for my heart to give out. I moved here for a reason.”

The reason being that he couldn’t stand everyone in town gazing at him with pity, most of all his parents. His mom’s smothering was one thing, but when his dad worried, he barked at anything that moved…in his human or canine form. Dean’s presence was agitating, and he preferred it here in Sioux Falls, where he could live near his uncle Bobby, work at Ellen’s bar and restaurant, hang out with human and supernatural friends, and forget that he was a fuck-up most of the time.

But as Ellen and Bobby were friends of his parents, there was some unspoken agreement that they had to provide weekly progress reports, hence Ellen’s interrogation. It was pointless, though. There wasn’t anything anyone could do to change his fate. Sam and Sarah had once spent an entire summer researching their guts out to come up with a solution, but to no avail.

Dean’s case was unprecedented.  There was no cure. He was going to die, sooner rather than later. He wished people would just accept that.

After all, he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, folks. I've had this sitting in my writing folder for a while, and I contemplated making this my DCBB before finally deciding against it. 
> 
> I hope to finish it, but I'm not gonna lie - I'm starting two grad programs soon, and may not have much time to work on this. It's probably super crazy of me to post this now, but I just love the concept so much I wanted to share it! It always feels good to get my writing out there. 
> 
> Hopefully I'll be inspired to continue even when I'm swamped. Thank you in advance for your patience!


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of dinner prep at The Roadhouse passed in silence, except for the occasional grunt of acknowledgement from both Dean and Benny. Then it was time for dinner service, and the hours flew by.

Dean didn’t get out until 1:00 am, and even then, he had to wait around to make sure their last straggler hailed a cab, since she was wobbling dangerously on her feet.

Outside, Dean’s breath puffed in the chilly air. He nodded at Benny and Ellen, who were heading to the parking lot. They lived farther from The Roadhouse, but Dean’s apartment was only eight blocks away, so he usually walked.

“Sure you don’t want a ride?” Ellen asked, hesitating with her key in her hands. She wore a familiar expression, and Dean wished Jo were here to bear the brunt of her mother’s concern. But Jo just _had_ to be a Witch and was currently out in the world developing her powers with her newly Bound Familiar, a guy named Ash who could take the form of rodents. Despite his animal form, he apparently was brilliant at solving puzzles, and Dean joked that Jo was going to become Indiana Jones, uncovering hidden treasure while her sidekick dismantled all the booby traps.

“I’m good,” Dean said, and he held up his cell phone. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

Ellen nodded, though her eyes were still wary. “Alright. Any problems, you call, y’hear?”

“I hear. Night, Ellen.”

“Night, Dean. You be careful out there.”

“Always am,” Dean said with a cheeky grin. Ellen smirked as Dean turned on his heel.

Dean felt more tired than usual, and refused to think about why that was. Instead, he opted for a shortcut down an alleyway. He knew from past experience that, at this time of night on a weekday, the most it would be populated with was garbage, which was easy enough to avoid.

Turning down said alleyway, Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and shivered slightly. His dad’s jacket was big on him, which begged the question of why he wore it all. The honest answer was that he liked the smell of leather.

He and Sam had been born human, though their transformations as children were erratic and overwhelming, especially when manifesting as canines. Smells just lured them away. Dean remembered one time he was in the form of a Basset Hound, and his nose led him far down the road.

When he lifted his nose from the ground and didn’t recognize anything familiar, he grew scared until he detected the scent of leather and exhaust fumes. He followed the smells back home, to where the family car, his dad’s classic ’67 Chevy Impala, rested in the driveway.

The smell of leather meant home.

When he was a kid, his parents had wanted to expose him and Sam to the world and help them hone their Familiar forms, so they had gone on frequent road trips. Dean grew accustomed to curling up asleep in the backseat of the car, breathing in leather and hearing the murmurs of his parents in the front.

Sometimes, they would all curl up together in the backseat in their animal forms. Their mother’s preferred form was a dove, and she’d fluff up beside them, cooing gently. Their father would become his usual Rottweiler self, sitting on the floor and resting his muzzle on the seat. Sam, only able to become a canine, would transform into some sort of ridiculously fluffy puppy with floppy ears. Dean would choose either bird or dog, and he often went with a small bird, like a goldfinch, so his mother could tuck him in with her wing.

    

Those were some of the best memories he had, and he was grateful for them now, during his last few months on Earth.

The wind from earlier had died down, but it was colder now that the sun was well below the horizon. Dean hugged himself as he hurried down the alley, popping in and out of shadows made from the streetlights. The deeper he went, the darker it got, until it was only dimly lit by general light pollution. His eyes had adjusted by then, so he was able to pick his way around dumpsters, wooden pallets, and boxes of rubbish. The alleyway spanned four blocks and was intersected by two roads, and it was after crossing the first road that Dean heard something up ahead.

It was ragged coughing, coming from the vague half-silhouette of a person slumped against the wall. Dean couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman, but the hacking sounded terrible, full of mucus and grit. Cringing sympathetically, he wondered if he should go around and leave the person alone. He didn’t want to bother them, and he didn’t want to catch whatever they had. Only, as he turned to backtrack, there was that feeling again, that _ping!_

No way. This had to be more than coincidence.

It was the man from earlier. He was sitting half in and half out of the aura of a light hanging from a balcony a few stories up. The light was shifting and grainy, but the man’s features and clothing were unmistakably the same.

He glanced up at Dean’s approach, his mouth parting as if to speak, but then he coughed, his whole body curling into itself as the spasms wracked through him.

“Hey, can I get you something? Water? Cold medicine?” Dean said weakly when the man’s coughing tapered off. Dean was paused a few paces away, unsure of how to proceed.

The man shook his head. “No,” he spoke in a low, gravelly voice. “Thank you. I’m fine. You should go.”

But Dean ignored him, creeping closer to study him as the man shrank back against the wall. Dawning comprehension made Dean gasp when he at last understood what his body had been trying to tell him.

“You’re a Witch,” he said, and the man flinched as if he’d been slapped. He turned away, his face shadowed.

“Not anymore.”

Dean blinked. “Um. So…what’re you doing here?”

“Please,” the man said, ignoring his question as his whole body sagged wearily. “Please. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go.”

Dean frowned. “What—?”

“You’re a Familiar. An Unbound Familiar. And you recognize that I’m an Unbound Witch.”

Dean sucked in a breath. That would be why his gut kept tugging at him, almost like he was magnetically drawn to the strange Witch on the ground.

“So?” Dean asked, and the stranger huffed, though he broke out into another coughing fit that rattled his lungs. It took him a solid minute to recover, and that’s when Dean realized what was happening.

“You’re dying,” he said. “Because you’re Unbound.”

He could sense it, finally, the man’s singleness where in most Witches there were usually two presences combined.

For some reason, Dean had never really considered the other side of the equation. Familiars couldn’t live without Witches, but Witches couldn’t live without Familiars. There were more survival stories of Witches without Familiars, depending on the Witch’s innate abilities, but the end results, while delayed, were still the same: death. They were interconnected, interdependent. One couldn’t live without the other.

And now the universe had dropped an Unbound Witch into Dean’s lap, and some part of him was already…resonating with him, for lack of a better word, which had never happened before. Dean wouldn’t know for sure till the guy made him a talisman, but—

Whoa, he was jumping way ahead of himself.

Dean took a deep breath, tamping down frustration and longing. He focused on the man, who squinted back at Dean. He had made no comment at Dean’s mention of his doomed status, but he didn’t need to. The evidence was pretty clear.

“Can I help you at all?” Dean said, somewhat helplessly.

The man let out a bitter chuckle. “No. You don’t want to help me.”

Dean scowled at that. “So, what, you’re just going to lie in this alley until you die?”

The man shrugged, his eyes sinking closed as he hugged his arms to his chest. His teeth chattered, and Dean was aware of their breaths puffing in the air. He was cold, too, just standing there. It was getting even later, and when he pulled out his phone, he saw that Ellen had texted him, wondering if he was alive since she had already made it home. He texted her to let her know he’d stopped for some last minute groceries at the convenience store but would be back at his place soon.

Somehow, he didn’t think she would approve of him talking to some Unbound Witch dying in an alley.

Dean pocketed the phone and shifted on his feet, trying to get circulation flowing.

The man responded by cracking open one eye and then the other, his expression one of veiled annoyance, as he was obviously confused about why Dean was still there.

  “Come on. I’ve got a couch you can sleep on,” Dean said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of his apartment. When the man said nothing, the only sign he had heard Dean at all in the furrowing of his brow, Dean sighed. “Just for one night. Or at least, until you can find a better place. Maybe a motel? Got any cash?”

“I only had enough left for the bus ticket here,” the man said. “So I can’t pay you.”

“Don’t need money, dude. Just trying to be nice.”

The man frowned hard at him. “You don’t even know me.”

“So? What’s the worst that could happen? You knife me in my sleep, steal my not-valuables? I’m dying, too. What does it matter if I go now or in a few months?”

The man’s face softened slightly. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But I want to. Come on. I’m freezing my balls off out here.” Dean extended his hand and helped the man lurch to his feet.

“I’m Dean. Dean Winchester,” Dean said as they headed out of the alley.

“Winchester?” the man repeated, glancing at him with wide eyes. “Any relation to John and Mary Winchester?”

Dean nodded proudly. Yeah, his clan was famous. “They’re my folks, actually.”

“Your parents? And you’re _Unbound_?”

Dean smiled tightly. “Yup. Something went wrong when I was conceived, I guess.”

“But you’ve never resonated with anyone?”

“Nope.”

“That can’t be right.”

Dean was forced to stop when the man grabbed his shoulder, hard. His grip almost brought Dean to his knees, and he winced. They had stopped directly under a streetlight, and now the man delivered a powerful, blue-eyed stare. Beneath the grime on his face, Dean saw that there was something... _beautiful_ about this strange Witch, from the unruly strands of hair curling at his forehead, to the chapped lips now parted in awe.

“Your soul is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,” the man continued, his voice hushed. He backed up a few steps, his hand dropping from Dean’s shoulder as he shook his head. “Thank you, but I’m sorry. I can’t.” With that, he mustered enough energy to turn and run back the way they’d come, disappearing into the gloom of the alley. Dean could hear his footsteps echoing for a moment, but a passing car swallowed up any other sounds and then he was gone, just like their first meeting.

Dean hadn’t even gotten his name.

And now his phone was ringing – probably Ellen – and Dean knew he couldn’t go after him. Hell, if he wanted to go shiver himself to death all alone, that was his choice. It wasn’t Dean’s fault.

So why did it feel like it was?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore the image of the Winchesters curled up in the Impala in their animal forms. Oh man, I'd love for someone to draw that.
> 
> Also, this story is going well so far. I hope to update as frequently as possible!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have to stop myself from posting a new chapter every day, because I've gotten a good bit of it written...I just don't want to make you guys wait too long when I inevitably catch up to myself!
> 
> GAH I'm just so excited to get this story out there!

“I can’t believe you!” Charlie exclaimed, popping a bit of muffin in her mouth. Her face was still flushed from being out in the cold, which had turned her nose pink almost to match her vibrant red curls. “You could’ve gotten shanked! Or mugged! What if he was a serial killer?”

Dean rolled his eyes. He was sitting with his friend in his favorite café in town, a small place called Sweet Tooth run by a little dweeb of a Bonded Witch named Gabriel (though Dean had never seen his Familiar). The guy had a knack for pastries, and Dean was a sucker for Gabriel’s magically brewed coffee – which seemed to be a waste of magic, but hey? Who was he to judge when the quality was excellent and it didn’t hurt anybody?

Charlie, as a human, didn’t know the short man behind the counter was a Witch. In fact, she was completely oblivious to the supernatural world as a whole, which was a nice change.

Dean planned to keep it that way.

He had met Charlie at The Roadhouse, where she had been trying to recruit people for her LARPing club. Dean had listened to her spiel with interest and ended up at her place later that week, learning all about the rules. Humans were a treasure when they got worked up about something pointless, and Charlie was unbelievably passionate about role-playing…to the extent that she was terrifying in her competitiveness. Dean loved that about her.

Dean sipped at his coffee as Charlie’s eyes bugged, still berating him for his carelessness with the “homeless guy” from the night before.

“Seriously, Dean! Are you crazy? You just _invited_ him back to your apartment?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, so? Not like he actually came back with me.”

Charlie just shook her head, spraying muffin crumbs on the table. “Still.” She huffed. “You find a strange, dying man in an alley and invite him home. He could’ve been dying from the plague or something. Or maybe a zombie virus. This could be how it all starts. He could be patient zero.”

Dean rolled his eyes and was about to retort when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He held up an apologetic finger to Charlie as he pulled it out, and noting the caller ID, stood swiftly.

“I gotta take this. Be right back.” He excused himself to the men’s room, with Charlie’s frown trailing after him. Thankfully, he found himself in a single stall. Locking the door behind him, Dean pressed the ‘accept’ button.

“Hey Victor. What’s up?”

There was a long sigh, and Dean could picture the man leaning against his desk at the station, pinching his brow between his fingers. “Nothing good. We need you down here. Things are…messy.”

“Messy, how?” Dean asked, his chest already squeezing.

“Just…not good. We could use your kind of expertise.”

“Did anyone get hurt?”

“No, but there was a civilian casualty, and one of our new transfers witnessed the whole thing. Jody’s giving her the low-down now.”

Dean closed his eyes. “Fantastic. You think she’s gonna freak?”

“Donna? Naw. I think she already had a feeling there was something else out there. But we’ll see. When can you drop by? I’m not sure how to handle this one.”

“I can be there in fifteen.”

“Great. See ya.”

Dean hung up and returned to Charlie, who was perusing Reddit on her phone.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asked, glancing up, and Dean grimaced, hating to do this yet again.

“Not exactly. You mind giving me a ride?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Where to, Maestro? Wait, let me guess.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah. The police station.”

 

* * *

Somehow, Charlie’s yellow VW Bug — a monstrosity, in Dean’s opinion — made it to the police station in time. Dean had been avoiding Charlie’s eyes, pointedly changing the radio station, and staring out the window during the drive over.

“So…more spy stuff?” she said as she parked in a space outside the small station. She looked at Dean with raised eyebrows, but he rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a spy.”

“And I’m not an idiot. This is what, my fifth time driving you to the station after a mysterious phone call? You’re actually a cop, aren’t you? Or an undercover agent?” She squirmed in her seat. “Oh my gosh, I won’t say anything, I promise! Just tell me if I can help you on your mission to save humanity.” She mock-saluted and Dean snorted, because she actually wasn’t that far off.

“Charlie…” he started, and she sighed dramatically.

“Fine, fine.” She waved her hands. “Go off and save the world, dear comrade.”

“Thanks for the ride,” he said, bending to peck her cheek before letting himself out and striding to the front door.

He had to admit, being requested at the station was never a good sign. Sioux Falls didn’t have an enormous supernatural population, and most of them cohabited with humans peacefully.

But there were always new beings testing the waters, and sometimes things went wrong, which was when Dean was usually brought in. Thanks to the hunting trips with his dad and his famous last name, he and the police department had gotten acquainted real fast, starting with Victor Henriksen during an investigation that started and ended with an angry ghost. Dean hated exposing humans to the supernatural world, but in this case, it was a necessary evil — and a helpful one, too, because Dean didn’t have to worry so much about covering anything up.

Victor was only the beginning, as, oddly enough, the man’s small precinct in Sioux Falls got hit with the most supernatural action in the area. After Victor came his lieutenant, Jody Mills, whose husband and son got infected by an unnatural virus that made them crave human flesh. Curing them required the combined efforts of Dean, Uncle Bobby, Bobby’s Familiar Rufus, _and_ Dean’s parents and their Witches, but they managed to save Jody’s family before it got too involved.

It was nice having legal law enforcement on their side, but Dean wasn’t looking forward to all the questions from Victor’s new sergeant, who had apparently seen some things she couldn’t explain.

Gearing himself for the worst, Dean was unprepared when he stepped into the station to see a kid sitting in a plastic chair next to Corporal Linus’s desk, swinging his legs. Linus glanced up at Dean’s approach and gave him his characteristic wide-toothed grin, which had Dean coughing to clear his throat, his cheeks reddening.

What? He couldn't help that the guy was cute.

“Back so soon?” Linus asked.

Linus only knew Dean as a consultant to the department from a case not too long ago, when they’d had to clear out a Wendigo nest since the creature started venturing too close to town for a midnight snack.

“Yeah. You know, can’t get enough of this place.”

Linus smiled again.

Dean turned toward the kid and knelt before him. “Hey buddy. What’s your name?” The boy couldn’t have been more than ten, and he looked pale under the station lights. His curly hair was disheveled, especially as he kept running nervous fingers through it.

“It’s Jacob,” Linus supplied, when Jacob didn’t answer. “He had quite a scare.”

“It wasn’t her!” Jacob burst out, lifting his head to reveal wide, red-rimmed eyes that flashed yellow for just a second. “It wasn’t her fault! It just…wasn’t!” He stared pointedly at Dean, and finally, Dean was aware of a steady thrum of _otherness_ radiating from him. Jacob wasn’t human.

Dean was spared from coming up with an excuse to get Linus to give them space when Victor appeared, his face grim.

“Dean.” He stuck out a hand, and Dean shook it.

“Mind coming with me for a moment?”

Dean gave Jacob a smile. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be over soon, okay? Hang in there.”

Turning, Dean followed Victor to the back, where he led them into an interrogation room with a one-way mirror on the wall. Sitting in a chair at the table was a woman with wavy strawberry blond hair and a dirty button-up white shirt, which was ripped around her wrists and neck. She startled when they entered, but immediately narrowed in on Dean. He could see her nostrils flare, and as her eyes widened in recognition, so did his.

“Amy?” he said.

The woman, Amy, nodded. “You’re Sam’s brother. I don’t remember your—?”

“Dean. It’s Dean.”

“Oh. Right. Dean. It’s been a while.” She smiled, but it was strained.

Victor glanced back and forth between them. “Does everybody in your world know each other? I swear.”

“Naw, man, we just ran into each other as kids,” Dean said. “My parents brought us on road trips. We went everywhere, but we always stopped by this little place in the valley.…”

Amy smiled wistfully, but it quickly dropped from her face. “So he does know about us,” she said to Dean, indicating Victor.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Now, what are you doing here?”

Amy swallowed heavily. “It wasn’t me. I swear to you.”

Dean’s gaze swung over to Victor, who produced a folder and clipboard from under his arm.

“We got some frantic calls this morning about a rabid fox attacking people in the park. One witness who called said there was another fox chasing after it, apparently trying to steer it away from people, but it wasn’t big enough to make a difference. Donna called animal control, but they were working on another case and could only spare one guy, so Donna went in with him. They split up at the scene, and Donna…she found the fox first. Shot it with a tranquilizer dart, only to have it change back into….” He nodded at Amy, who was biting her lip. Victor met Dean’s eyes. “She like you, then?”

“A Familiar? _No_ ,” Amy cut in as if offended. “We’re _kitsune_. Foxes. And I don’t know what came over me. I never go into my animal form around other people. Never!” Her face was pleading, and Dean frowned.

“What’s the last thing you remember, before you changed into a fox?”

Amy thought hard. “Darkness. Helplessness. It was cold, and I was…trapped. Screaming, but…it was like no one could hear me. And then my body started moving on its own, and I couldn’t do anything.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “Thank god Jacob was there to stop me from hurting anyone.” Her eyes flew open. “He’s alright, isn’t he?”

“He’s fine,” Victor said. “Nothing wrong as far as we can see. I didn’t know if…uh, bringing him to the hospital was a good idea.”

Amy let out a relieved sigh. “That’s good. We heal faster than humans.” She trailed off, and in the silence, Victor glanced questioningly at Dean.

“Well? Got any thoughts?”

“How’s Donna?” Dean asked, his face thoughtful.

“Was she the cop?” Amy asked. “God, I didn’t mean to—.”

“She was just surprised,” Victor headed her off. “She’s…getting the talk now. So it’s fine.”

Amy just shook her head, shaking with sudden sobs. “But I exposed us. I…oh god.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, gasping. “Please, whatever you have to do to me, please don’t hurt my son. Please let him go. He’s just a child!”

“Miss Pond, we’re not going to hurt you or your son,” Victor said, and when he caught Dean’s eye, Dean nodded as well.

“Yeah, Amy, we don’t do that around here. Especially if it’s not your fault. Which, it definitely doesn’t sound like it is.”

“So what happened to me?” Amy whispered through her tears.

Dean’s put a hand on her shoulder, his face hardening. “I’m sorry about this, but I’ve got to make sure… _Christo_.”

Immediately, Amy’s watery eyes slid to black, and Dean began chanting the exorcism his father had had him memorize when he was a boy. The demon possessing Amy roared, and all at once her head tipped back, and writhing black smoke poured from her mouth, disappearing into the air vent.

Amy was left choking and trembling, and Dean held her steady as he gazed into her eyes.

“You alright?” He extended the question to Victor, who was tightly clutching the other chair, his knuckles white.

Victor let out a shaky breath. “You think you’ve seen some stuff…but then you see _that_.”

“It’s demonic possession. Guess one of the bastards found a tiny crack and worked itself outta Hell.” He patted Amy’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine.”

She was still panting, clearly shaken, but she nodded. “But…why?”

Dean shrugged. “Sometimes there isn’t a why. They just like causing trouble. Unfortunately, the bastard got away, but we’ll find it. In the meantime, you can protect yourself with salt and….” Dean continued to explain, taking some spare paper from Victor and copying down the symbol of a demon’s trap. “You can draw this anywhere, and the demon won’t be able to get out. I doubt it’ll try to possess you again, but just in case.”

Amy nodded again, reaching out to grip his wrist. “Thank you.” She offered him a weak smile, her eyes becoming sad. “Are you going to be alright?”

Dean felt Victor’s gaze on him, but forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“But I can tell. Your magic, it’s—.”

“It’s fine,” Dean said, straightening. “Think you got everything, Vic? I’ve gotta head out. I work at The Roadhouse in a bit.”

Victor’s face made it clear that he saw right through Dean’s façade, but thankfully, he made no comment about it.

“Yeah. I’m good. I think. I’ll call you when my nightmares start.”

Dean smirked. “I heard chamomile’s real good for that shit.”

“Hey, just because I don’t like coffee doesn’t mean I like that crap either!”

“Sure, sure!” Dean called, chuckling and waving as he stepped out of the interrogation room. In the hallway, he ran into Jody, who was leading a blond woman and speaking to her closely.

“Dean,” Jody said. She gestured to her companion. “This is Donna. Donna, this is Dean. He was the one I was talking about.”

“Oh. Right. The Witch.”

“Uh, Familiar, actually.”

Donna beamed at him, though there was a manic glint to her eyes. Still adjusting to the news, then.

“Jody tells me you can turn into a dog. Any particular kind?”

Dean couldn’t help but grin at her blunt question, not to mention her slightly Canadian accent. “I prefer German Shepherd, actually.”

Donna clapped her hands together. “Lovely! You know, my brother just got a German Shepherd. Her name’s Daisy.” She made a little humming noise, and Jody met Dean’s eyes, wincing apologetically as she gripped Donna’s shoulders.

“Alright, Donna. Let’s go get you seated.”

“Nice meeting you,” Donna said airily as they brushed past.

After saying goodbye to Linus and Jacob, Dean let himself out of the station and stood on the sidewalk, basking in the warm sunlight, though the wind was still biting. Yawning, he pulled out his cell phone, knowing he needed to tell the others to be on the lookout for a rogue demon. They could only hope the thing didn’t have friends, but frankly, Dean was surprised to even see _one_ of their kind. Some big magic had gone down a few years ago, sealing Hell up tight, and Dean hadn’t run into a demon since. Other monsters? Sure. But demons? Not so much.

Dialing Bobby’s number, Dean filled him in on what had happened.

“On the bright side, we’ve got another cop on our side,” Dean said. “Though she was a bit shell-shocked, but she’ll get over it. She seemed kinda into it, to be honest. Right off the bat asked me what dog form I prefer.”

Bobby huffed. “And you went with the obvious, I’m guessing?”

“What do you have against German Shepherds? Like your old swine could really compete.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Put Rufus on the phone. I don’t care.”

“He’s off working a case. As for you, you should be taking it easy.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Not you, too. Seriously, I’m _fine_. It’s no big deal. It was a minor exorcism anyway. No spell work or anything.”

Bobby was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “You know, I’m still looking. I don’t want you giving up, you hear me?”

“I’m not giving up. It’s just that there’s no point. Stop wasting your time. You said it yourself — my case is rare. We got the info we need, and now we got a deadline. Nothing we can do about it.”

“Nothing we can do about it? You can find a Witch is what you can do about it!”

“Bobby, I’ve touched at least a thousand talismans by now! Nothing! Zilch! Nada! I’m done with it. I’m done with the whole thing.”

“There are plenty more Witches out there—.”

“No, I’m _done_.”

Dean heard Bobby growling through the phone, and if Dean didn’t know he was a Witch, he would’ve assumed Bobby was the Familiar, not Rufus.

“Damn it, Dean,” Bobby swore softly, and Dean wasn’t sure what was coming next, but there was a flash of red and a familiar silhouette striding through the park across the street.

“Good talk, Bobby,” Dean said, “But I gotta go. See you for dinner tomorrow.”

Dean hung up without waiting for Bobby, and carefully crossed the street, chasing after, yet again, the Unbound Witch he had run into twice, no, three times now.

This seriously couldn’t be a coincidence.

Was the universe trying to tell him something?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday today and I'm in a joyous mood. Here's another chapter for you lovelies! <3

Dean trailed the Unbound Witch from a safe distance, remembering how the Witch had at the last moment refused his help. Dean didn’t want to scare him away. He wished he knew the guy’s name, and why he was here in Sioux Falls.

Dean took in the sight of his back as the Witch ambled down the park path, his gait a little crooked and his posture lopsided. He was obviously in bad shape. Was he just waiting for the elements to claim him before magical depletion got to him?

Dean’s breath caught when they rounded a bend and he saw an obviously homeless old woman seated on a park bench. She was dressed in a myriad of colored, dirty layers.

Dean watched the Witch approach the woman, speaking quiet words that he would have been able to pick up in his other form. He entertained the idea of transforming into a bird and then perching really close to eavesdrop, but then the Witch was reaching into the pockets of his hoodie and withdrawing what Dean assumed were coins, as they made a tinny sound when he dropped them in a cup she held out to him. She offered much thanks, her whole body bowing with gratitude, but the Witch just smiled, pat her on the shoulder, and departed.

Dean didn’t know what to make of that, but his heart suddenly squeezed. He trailed after the Witch, feeling a desperate surge of protectiveness, like how he used to feel before Sam was Bound. He had always looked out for his brother, especially when their parents were hunting with their Witches and had to leave Dean and Sam to fend for themselves. Dean had taken the responsibility very seriously, often staying up all night in the form of a guard dog until their parents returned.

Now, Dean wanted to help this stranger, this confusing Witch who didn’t want pity and didn’t want help. So what could he do?

The answer came when the man stopped at a park bench and settled down on it, leaning back and closing his eyes, letting the sun play over his face. He was within sight of a busy playground, where screaming kids were running around and their caretakers were keeping close eyes on them.

Dean approached, wary of the cautious looks he garnered. Dean stopped right next to the Witch, and drew in a breath. “I’m taking you to lunch, and you can’t say no.”

The Witch hummed, his eyes still closed, “Hello, Dean.”

“Look, I don’t care who you are or whatever, but you need food. So we’re getting some.”

“Castiel. My name’s Castiel.”

Dean blinked at the odd name before a light bulb went off.

“Castiel? That sounds like…wait, are you from the Angelus Coven?”

Castiel stiffened, his eyes opening and his face darkening. He shoved to his feet, pushing past Dean. He had only made a few steps when Dean called out to him.

“Wait, Cas, it’s fine, I don’t care—” he started, but all at once his throat closed and he couldn’t breathe. His heart pumped erratically, painfully, and he clutched at his chest, wondering vaguely when he had dropped to his knees. He gasped for breath until there were warm hands on his face. Abruptly, he inhaled lungfuls of air.

“Dean? Dean? It’s alright. Breathe. Just breathe,” Castiel murmured as his large hands cupped Dean’s jaw. All at once, waves of peace washed through him and Dean relaxed, his breathing steady. The fogginess in his head cleared and his heart returned to normal. He drooped, wanting to sleep.  

But then Castiel released him and the drowsiness departed in the same moment. Dean was surprised to find that they were both kneeling in the grass, staining their pants.

“Sorry. Holy shit,” Dean mumbled when he found his voice. He glanced away from Castiel in embarrassment, though part of him ached for the man’s touch.  

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Castiel said softly, and in the sunlight, his eyes seemed even bluer than before. Together, they lurched to their feet and Dean attempted to laugh it off.

“Wow, way for my heart to suck. Uh, thanks. Really.”

Castiel didn’t smile. He glanced behind them and quickly draped an arm over Dean’s shoulders, angling him away.

“Cas, what’re you—?”

“I don’t want to bother the children. Some of them noticed us. Can you walk?”

Dean nodded, but his legs had other plans. They felt like jelly, and he needed Castiel’s support to guide them away from the playground and toward another park bench well out of sight. They had reached the end of the park near the road, and cars zoomed by as Dean sank gratefully onto the hard plastic, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m fine,” he wheezed, and knew he was horribly unconvincing. Castiel sat beside him, and Dean was aware that his hand was on his back, rubbing slow circles. The touch felt beyond nice, even electric if Dean really allowed himself to concentrate on it. It was like his whole body relished the contact, needed it but wanted more.

Was this what it felt like to resonate with someone?

The thought made Dean gasp, but he quickly coughed to hide it.

That was stupid, obviously. The Angelus Coven was arguably one of the strongest to ever exist in the United States, and they had already tried and failed to Bond with the Winchesters.

Back in the day, the oldest brothers that led the Angelus Coven – Michael and Lucifer, as they were all given Biblical names – had sent talismans to Dean and Sam respectively, determined that they would resonate. It was ideal, of course, to have a powerful Witch clan Bond with a powerful Familiar clan, but it wasn’t meant to be. No matter how many talismans they sent, neither Dean nor Sam felt anything.

When they continually sent back their negative responses, Michael and Lucifer grew angry. Things got tense, and Dean could remember the feeling of energy crackling in the air, like a late summer storm. Dean’s family had all expected the Angelus Coven to attack them, and they prepared for an assault. But then the coven withdrew and seemingly went underground. There were whispers that the Angelus Coven was finally re-emerging, but Dean hadn’t believed it.

At least, not until now, with Castiel sitting next to him, his hand still performing its ministrations.

And yeah, so what if Castiel’s touch felt good? Dean wasn’t good enough for Michael, and he wasn’t good enough for Castiel. He was broken. He couldn’t Bond with anyone.

Swallowing, Dean reluctantly shifted forward, away from Castiel’s calming hand.   

“Seriously, thanks. But I’m good now.”

Castiel’s withdrew his hand, frowning.

“Are you sure? You still look pale.”

“I was the one trying to help you, remember?” Dean said, and Castiel allowed himself a tiny grin at that.

“I remember. I apologize for being rude.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Dean said, using Castiel’s own words on him. Castiel flashed a grim smile before moving to stand.

“Wait,” Dean said, and Castiel paused. “I still want to take you out to lunch. And you can’t say no.”

Castiel shook his head in disbelief. “But why? Why help me?”

“I don’t know about your coven, but mine takes care of its own, and you’re in our territory. So we’re gonna get some grub. Got it?”

Castiel bit his lip. “I don’t suppose I have a choice.”

“Nope.” Dean pushed to his feet, grimacing as he swayed slightly.

“Are you sure you’re—?”

“I’m peachy.” Dean led Castiel to a diner down the street, where they had a fantastic breakfast special on Tuesdays. Plopping into his customary booth on the far wall, Castiel slid into the seat opposite him, neatly folding his hands on the table.

“Hey Ann Marie,” Dean greeted the waitress who appeared. She handed out menus and schooled her face when she noticed Castiel’s disheveled appearance. Dean gave her a wink to throw her off. Her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.

“I take it the usual for you then?” she asked.

“Amen to that. Cas?”

Castiel glanced at the menu and smiled at Ann Marie. “I’ll have a coffee please. And…two scrambled eggs with cheese—.”

“That’s like nothing,” Dean interrupted. “We’ll get two pigs ’n a poke. Oh, and some coffees.” He winked again, holding up his mug. Ann Marie collected their menus and swept away. She returned with a carafe to fill both of their mugs. As Dean poured creamer into his, he caught Castiel looking at him, his brows furrowed.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Dean said. “You were trying for the cheapest thing on the menu, which is hardly anything. You must be starving. I don’t care what it costs, and I promise you won’t regret it. This is my favorite breakfast place. Or brunch place, really.”

“Why are you calling me Cas?” Castiel asked, and Dean blinked, not expecting the abrupt subject change. He shifted in his seat.

“Am I calling you that? I…uh, sorry, I didn’t realize it, I guess. Should I not call you that?”

“No. It’s…it’s nice, actually.” Castiel let out a sigh, his gaze out the window on the sidewalk below. “It feels like a new name. A new me.”

“You running from something?” Dean blurted, and then cursed himself when Castiel tensed. “You don’t have to answer that. Never mind my big mouth.”

“It’s okay. It’s a logical guess. I suppose I am running.”

“Anything we can help you with? I’m in with the Witches in town. We’ve got your back if you need it.”

Castiel shook his head, marveling. “You’ve just met me, and yet you’ve offered to help me twice already.”

“Well yeah. You’re a Witch who needs help.”

“And does no one plan to help you?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“What happened today....”

“I know I’m running out of time, okay? It is what it is.” Dean shrugged. “I’ve got till my 26th birthday. Maybe. A few months tops, but I’m fine with that.”

“Are you really?” At Dean’s severe look, Castiel continued, “I apologize. I’m being rude. I’m just shocked that someone so righteous, so pure, would be Unbound.”

“Righteous and pure? How do you figure that?” Dean recalled what the guy had said about his soul and couldn’t help but scowl.

“My powers…I’m a dreamwalker. I can make people sleep, and then manipulate their dreams. And I’ve always been able to see souls and auras. That’s my power as a Witch, though it’s fading.”

That must’ve been what Dean felt when Castiel touched him. They weren’t resonating – it was just Castiel’s power.

“My mom’s Witch can get in your head, too,” Dean said, imagining the stout form of Missouri Moseley. “Though she’s a psychic.”

Castiel nodded. “Powers come in all forms. As my family believes, mine is the weakest.”

“Is that why you ran?”

Castiel glanced out the window. “It’s one of the reasons.”

Dean got the hint and steered the subject away from his past, though he was dying to know.

“So where you going to be staying? It gets awfully cold at night, dude. Please. Just come bunk at my place. No pressure.”

No pressure? Who was Dean kidding? He didn’t know Castiel from a hole in the wall – and he was of the Angelus Coven – but this was his second time inviting him to stay at his apartment. Why was Dean so desperate to protect him, to make sure he was well cared for and nearby in case anything happened?

Was Castiel manipulating him? Dean instantly dashed that thought, considering how much Castiel had tried to push him away.

“Alright.”

Dean blinked at Castiel’s answer. “Wait, really?”

“I can’t fight it anymore. There’s something…between us,” Castiel said, and Dean gasped.

“You feel it, too? Are we—?”

“Dean, no,” Castiel interrupted, and Dean’s face fell. “I’m sorry, but I can’t resonate with anyone.”

“Can’t? How is that even possible?”

Before Castiel could respond, Ann Marie appeared with their plates. Dean let the food distract him while he chewed over Castiel’s words in his head. It didn’t make sense. Resonating was never a one-way street…so did that mean Dean really was just imagining things?

Mentally, Dean sighed.

Was it a bad idea to invite Castiel into his life? 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please double-check the tags (especially the relationship ones).

Despite his misgivings, Dean set Castiel up in his spare bedroom that night, after getting off early from The Roadhouse. His excuse to Ellen was only the tip of a lie, because though he was feeling better, his heart really _hadn’t_ been cooperating earlier in the park. Ellen, with eyes creased in pity, predictably let him leave, and Dean met Castiel at their arranged location. Once in his apartment, Castiel showered and Dean offered to let him borrow some clothes while he washed his other ones.

Now, Castiel lay on the bed in the guest bedroom, his arms flung high above his head.

“This feels _wonderful_ ,” he said. He stretched and his shirt rode up, exposing a sharp, tanned hipbone. Which Dean didn’t see because he wasn’t looking from the doorway. Obviously.

“I got Memory Foam mattresses. For me _and_ my distinguished guests. Only the best when you stay at Casa Winchester.”

Castiel flashed a smile. “So your parents…are they from here, too?”

“Sioux Falls? Nah, we’re a Kansas family, born and bred. I moved out here by myself when I was 20.”

“Ah.” Castiel made a happy noise, and the contentment he emanated was contagious enough to make Dean’s face bloom into a smile. There was a part of Dean that was seriously happy about having Castiel there – the same part that felt drawn to him. The longing that was still there, but appeased for the moment.

Dean was about to ask about Castiel’s abilities some more when the front door burst open and a man with black hair and a matching beard-mustache strode into the apartment.

“Aaron?” Dean said. And yes, of course it was his friend – and occasional fuck buddy.

“Oh my god are you _alive_?” Aaron exclaimed as he stomped through the living room/kitchen combo and made a beeline for Dean in the hallway. “Do you know how many times I’ve called—?” Aaron halted in his tracks when he caught sight of Castiel, propped up on his elbows on the bed. “Oh. Uh. Oops. Didn’t know you were having company.”

Dean wanted to slap himself. “Not _that_ kind of company,” he said quickly. “What’s up?”

Aaron laughed uncomfortably. “Oh, you know, nothing, just wanted to hang. Dropped by The Roadhouse but Ellen said you’d skedaddled cuz you weren’t feeling well. I wanted to see if you needed anything from the store or…whatever.”

Aaron stuck his hands in the pocket of his jeans and blew out a long breath. “But now I’ve made things awkward. Sorry.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re fine. Aaron, this is Cas. Cas, Aaron.”

Aaron stepped past Dean to offer a hand, and Castiel shook it. Castiel then proceeded to stare at Aaron, not blinking, and Dean realized he was probably reading the guy’s soul or whatever.

With a nervous chuckle, Aaron withdrew his hand. He shot Dean a look. “So…is Cas…a friend? You’ve known him for a while…?”

“He’s a Witch,” Dean said flatly, and Aaron nodded.

“Oohh okay, gotcha. But not _your_ Witch?”

“No!” Dean said hurriedly. His gaze flicked to Castiel, but luckily he wasn’t offended.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Castiel said as he stood. “I can see your aura.”  

“I have no idea what that means, but okay. I get it. I’ll give you guys your space.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aaron, do you really have to make this so weird? Cas is a friend, okay? He’s gonna stay for a while, but we’re not sleeping together.”

 _Yet_ , Dean’s traitorous mind cut in. Wait, what? When had he thought about that? After Castiel first ventured out of the bathroom, his hair dripping wet from the shower, a towel slung low over his waist? Or when he gripped him in the alleyway and Dean saw how blue his eyes were?

Oh goddamn it. This whole fake-resonating thing was really messing with him.

Castiel startled at Dean’s blunt words, but Dean managed to pacify him enough to turn and crowd Aaron into the kitchen.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything,” Aaron said, throwing up his hands in defense as he backed into the counter.

Dean sighed. “I know, I know. It’s just…complicated, okay? He needs my help right now.”

“But what about you, Dean? Your clock’s ticking. I came to tell you what Greg found—”

“Greg? Seriously? That’s what you’re naming him?”

By ‘him,’ Dean meant Aaron’s Golem. An honest to God Golem, right out of Jewish mythology. Aaron had inherited the creature from his grandfather, but was still learning how to operate it. He and Dean had met when the Golem got loose thanks to one of Aaron’s botched commands. It turned out that rolling the pages of the ‘How to Control Your Golem’ manual into joints was not the most brilliant idea Aaron had ever had. He had been in college at the time, but still.

“Yes, Greg the Golem. Catchy, isn’t it?”

Dean shook his head, but couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Yeah, Aaron was a dweeb, but there was something maddeningly endearing about him.

“Okay, and? You said he found something?”

“Well, he didn’t technically _find_ anything, but I asked him if he’d ever worked with Witches in the past and we got to talking. Turns out he did work with a Witch once, when he was with my grandfather. A Witch and Familiar _team_. But they weren’t Bound to each other, and apparently they lived for a really long time.”

“What? I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Yeah, well that’s because it was through the Thule Society.”

“The Thule Society? I thought they were necromancers?”

“They were.”

Dean gazed at Aaron and the pieces clicked into place. “So either the Witch or the Familiar was undead. That’s why they didn’t need to Bond.”

Aaron squirmed. “Um. Yeah.”

“Oh, okay,” Dean said sarcastically. “So just kill me and raise me from the dead and I’ll be all set?”

“I don’t know! It’s something, though, isn’t it?”

“I don’t see how.” Dean turned away but Aaron grabbed his sleeve.

“Dean.” He swallowed hard. “You know that I…that I really care about you—”

Dean deflated. “Aaron, don’t do this.”

“But I have to. I have to do something. I can’t just let you die.”

Dean cupped Aaron’s face in his hands and leaned forward to kiss him, long and slow. When he pulled apart, he smiled sadly.

“I appreciate it, I do, but…you’ve got to let this go.”

“I can’t.”

They bowed their foreheads together but broke away when there was a scuffling sound on the carpet. Dean turned to see Castiel pause and point to the cabinets above them.

“Sorry, I was going to get some water...I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s alright. We were just gonna go watch some Dr. Sexy. Right?”

Aaron frowned at him. “I wish I understood your obsession with that show, but hell, maybe you’d actually listen to me if I started wearing cowboy boots.”

Dean grinned and playfully smacked Aaron’s ass as he passed Dean on the way to the couch. “Hell yeah, I would! Now come on, Cas, you ever seen Dr. Sexy before?”

“I…can’t say I have.”

“Cool. Then you’re about to be educated.”

They squeezed onto the couch with Dean in the middle, and Aaron grabbed the remote. They paused a few minutes in to make popcorn, and Dean settled in for a night of fun.

Fun, or as he liked to think about it, a distraction from the shit-storm that was his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fall right into the fanfic trope of the whole 'shirt riding up, catching a glimpse of lover's skin' thing. Oh man! Someone pointed that out on tumblr, and now I see it IN ALL THE FICS. INCLUDING MY OWN, haha!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far so good, everyone! This story is just pouring out of me so I should hopefully finish soon!

The next week passed by in a blur, and shockingly, Castiel fit right into it.

He was a constant, quiet presence in the apartment, and Dean found himself looking forward to coming home if only to have someone to talk to, to vent to about his day. It was all just normal stuff, filler conversation, really, but it felt good to have a confidant.

Aaron had once filled that role, but it hadn’t been quite the same. At the time, Aaron had been trying to learn to control his Golem, and studied constantly whenever he was over. And when he wasn’t poring through Jewish history and folklore, he was exploring other supernatural texts so he could familiarize himself with Dean’s world.

It was kinda like living with Sam, and after a few weeks, Aaron had sensed Dean’s annoyance and stayed at his place more often than not. Which was fine. Their arrangement worked out, and they were still friends.

But Castiel?

He was an avid listener. He didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation, but he was one of those people that focused on you 100% when you were talking. Dean always knew that Castiel’s attention was on him, and only him.

It made Dean feel selfish, but at the same time, he didn’t want to reciprocate if that meant prying into Castiel’s personal history. That would’ve been even ruder, so Dean just let it be. And honestly? Castiel didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, listening to Dean seemed like the only thing he did, as it didn’t appear that he left the apartment much. The one time he wasn’t there when Dean got back, it turned out he had gone grocery shopping. He returned with food for the both of them, and some toiletries for himself.

Other than that, Castiel slept away his terrible cough – thank goodness – and just generally hung out, often preparing food for Dean to take to work. He was a decent cook, and Dean more than appreciated it – especially since he was busy as heck all week.

First, Dean had to endure a barrage of updates from Sam and Sarah on their fabulous life in California. He was happy for the two, he really was, but he couldn’t care less about the text they were translating that might be the oldest law book in the world. Whoop-di-frickin’-do.

Then, after the incident with Amy, Dean had to organize a meeting and invite everyone he knew to it. The purpose was to teach them – or remind them – how to ward off demons. He demonstrated proper salt lines, showed off some demon-repelling sigils courtesy of Sarah, had a local pastor bless some holy water (he was an old colleague of Dean’s father’s Witch, Pastor Jim), and even passed out fliers of a demon exorcism written in original text and then spelled out phonetically. Aaron had helped him with that, after Dean spoke the Latin and Aaron translated what he heard. The result was an easy pronunciation guide that would, hopefully, send any unwelcome visitors packing.

Overall, though, Dean strove to assure them that what happened to Amy was a one-time thing. Demons were still rare, and now that a good portion of Sioux Falls (at least the supernatural portion) knew how to repel them, they were unlikely to risk another appearance. At least he hoped not.

In the meantime, Dean checked up on Amy to make sure she was doing alright in her recovery. Thankfully she was, though that wasn’t his only reason for visiting.

Years back, when Benny first arrived at Sioux Falls, he’d had to find a way to feed himself without being conspicuous. As a vampire, it wasn’t easy, and Benny wasn’t the kind to take on concubines, no matter how willing. Instead, one evening, when the hunger drove him toward the smells of blood emanating from the hospital, he ran into Maritza. She was a nurse, and – Dean never got the name right – a _pishtaco_. She’d learned to appease her own supernatural hunger by sucking small amounts of fat off her patients. Which sounded gross, but apparently she did it in a safe and unobtrusive way.

When she encountered Benny, Maritza realized that her access to the hospital could really help others in her world. The result was a safe and reliable means of acquiring blood, organs, and other body parts for those who needed it – without harming people, and without drawing any attention.

Amy was new to the area, so Dean had to fill her in on their system. He made sure Jacob was in the room, too, because they both needed to know that this was how it worked in Sioux Falls. It was a spiel he’d given to a number of newcomers, so he knew it by heart. Still made him exhausted though.

Or maybe that was his continued magical depletion.

By the end of the week, Dean was ready to conk out. But when he walked in the door on Friday night, it was to the delicious aroma of curry. He took off his shoes and found Castiel in the kitchen, stirring together a rice and chicken dish on the stove.

“Oh my god that smells amazing,” Dean said. His mouth was already watering.

Castiel flushed. He was wearing an apron. “I hope you like curried chicken and rice.”

“I will literally eat anything.”

Castiel stirred the mixture with a hesitant smirk. “Good. Because I might have burnt some of it.”

“Aw man, I’ll still eat it, believe me. You didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re letting me stay here. It’s the least I could do, especially since you’re feeding me. And letting me borrow clothes.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.” Dean shifted and grimaced. “I’m gonna change into PJs. Be right back.”

As he padded to his room, he noticed that his apartment – while not normally _unclean_ – seemed much more neat and organized than he remembered. Not only that, but as he ran his hands over his bureau, not even a speck of dust clung to his finger. He quickly changed and returned to the kitchen.

“Cas, did you dust?”

Castiel, in the middle of spooning out their dinner portions onto plates, glanced up. “Um. Yes. Just a little, though. I hope you don’t mind—”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dean said, sounding like a broken record.

Castiel gave a half-shrug. “I wanted to.”

“Thanks, dude. That’s…really nice of you.”

“Like I said, it’s the least I could do.” His face grew shadowed for a moment, but he wiped the expression with a smile. “Shall we eat now?”

Dean grabbed some beers from the fridge and they sat to eat on his mini dinette set. The food was a little under-spiced, but Dean fixed that with some hearty shakes of salt and pepper. 

They were silent for a few moments, but for chewing noises, and then Castiel spoke up. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, shoot,” Dean said, his mouth full.

Castiel shot him an unimpressed look before continuing, “I was cleaning and I didn’t…well, I got to wondering….”

“Just spit it out.”

“Please close your mouth while you’re eating.”

Dean rolled his eyes but obeyed.

“I know it’s rude of me to ask,” Castiel continued, “But I was wondering what your Familiar form is. I didn’t find any fur or feathers or scales….”

Dean swallowed his mouthful, deciding not to interpret that last statement as creepy. “That’s cuz I haven’t transformed in a while. You know. Not much magic left.”

“Right.”

“But I’m a canine and bird designation.”

“Two designations?”

“Yeah, lucky me. And I can’t become either one.”

Castiel was quiet, his head lowered. “What if you could?”

“Huh?”

Castiel inhaled a breath. “I…I know we’re not Bound, but I could lend you some of my magic. It’d help for a little while, and you’d be able to transform.”

“But that would just kill you faster.”

“It’s alright – I’ve got more left than you, and I was….” Castiel cut himself off. That darkness from before returned to his face, but he shrugged it off. “Would you let me? I want to see what you look like.”

Dean huffed. It was cute how Castiel didn’t realize he sounded like a stalker when he said shit like that. Dean was learning that about the guy – social cues weren’t his forte.

“What does it involve?”

Without prompting, Castiel dropped his fork and reached for Dean’s hand. Clasping it tightly, he closed his eyes and whispered a few words. Immediately, energy crackled over their joined arms and Dean felt _alive_ for the first time in a long time. His body absorbed it like it was water and he was dying of thirst.

Far too soon, Castiel pulled back. Dean wanted to demand why, but then he saw that Castiel was breathing hard and sweat was beading his forehead.

“Shit, are you okay?” He could remember Castiel’s awful coughing the alley – had he just sentenced the guy to an even earlier death?

“I’m fine,” he said, and Dean’s eyebrows shot up when he realized that Castiel was right. Already, he had regained his composure as if he hadn’t just transferred away some of his life essence.

“How’d you do that? I mean, you were dying before, in the alley….”

“That was more of a human illness. I got over it,” Castiel said matter-of-factly.

“Oh. Right,” Dean said somewhat faintly. He shook his head and finished his last forkful of food. He pushed back from the table and stood in the center of the kitchen. “Ready?” he asked, and Castiel nodded. “You got any requests? And don’t you dare say a Chihuahua.”

Castiel snorted. “How about a crow? They’re a fascinating species. Incredibly intelligent.”

“Of course, good sir,” Dean said with a mock bow.  “One crow, coming up.” He closed his eyes and concentrated his magic. He felt Castiel’s boost swirling through him, and the change happened. One minute he was human, the next, he was a crow.

The kitchen loomed above him, and Dean’s vision was wider, taking in all angles. He bobbed his head instinctively and hopped toward Castiel.

Castiel bent to offer his arm, and Dean latched onto it so Castiel could be his elevator. On the table, Castiel moved the plates out of the way so Dean would have space.

“You’re beautiful,” Castiel said, and Dean stretched out his wings. They were wider than the kitchen table, and Castiel had to duck to avoid getting hit by them. Dean cawed an apology as he tucked his wings back into place and ruffled his feathers.

Castiel’s eyes were filled with delight as he tracked Dean’s movement up his arm and onto his shoulder. Dean pecked at his ear and Castiel laughed.

“Stop it, that tickles!”

Dean cawed in triumph and let out another noise when Castiel patted his head and then stroked down his back.

“Pretty bird. Can you see colors? Your feathers are incredible. They’re iridescent green. Gorgeous.”

 Dean preened before he launched off Castiel’s body to flutter down to the kitchen floor. He closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he was back to his full height as a human – and he was fully clothed, since he had trained enough to not let the transformation affect his outfit.

Dean remembered the difficulty of transitioning back from a bird when he was a child. He’d broken his arm, once, when he returned to his human self but still wanted to fly. His arms, after all, still felt like wings, but his mother scolded him harshly. It took years before the change happened automatically, and without any mental residue from his previous form.

Castiel had an expression of awe on his face. His voice when he spoke was quiet, yet firm. “You deserve to be Bound, Dean. You don’t deserve to die, not like this.”

A lump wedged in Dean’s throat. He looked down. “It doesn’t matter what I may or may not deserve.”

“But it does. There must be something—.”

“No, okay?” Dean erupted. “There’s nothing. Everyone’s already looked. I’m out of options. God, why can’t any of you just accept that?”

Fuming, Dean shoved past Castiel and slammed the door behind him when he got to his room. He collapsed onto his bed and threw an arm over his face.

And things had been going so well, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story. I started writing another Witch/Familiar fic not too long ago (almost the same time I started this one) only Castiel was the Familiar, and Dean was the Witch. The concept was similar, and I remember looking up tons of Youtube videos on crows, because that was Castiel's form. 
> 
> I just love Witch/Familiar AUs!


	7. Chapter 7

Dean had forgotten how good transforming felt, and since Castiel had allowed him that small taste of freedom, he _yearned_ for it. Which was why, over the next few days, Dean found himself staring at Castiel when the other guy wasn’t looking. That pull was back, stronger than ever, and now Dean wasn’t satisfied just occupying the same space as the Witch. Castiel’s magic flowed through him, and he wanted — needed — more. His body didn’t understand why he couldn’t have it, though he kept reminding himself of Castiel’s words.

Only, the more he recalled them, the more they didn’t make sense.

Castiel had said he couldn’t Resonate with anyone, as in, he was unable to. But Dean repeatedly caught him staring back, and he knew he wasn’t imagining the similar longing on Castiel’s face. He wanted this just as much as Dean did.

So when he said he _couldn’t_ , had he really meant he _wouldn’t_? But why would he deny himself one of his most basic, biological necessities? It didn’t make sense.

Nothing about their situation did.

While Dean had been hesitant to announce his new housemate, after Castiel shared magic with him, Dean decided it was about time to introduce him, especially since the other Witches/Familiars would sense his presence through Dean. He’d already gotten a look from Bobby when he stopped at his scrapyard to see how the old man was doing, and Dean really didn’t want the pity that came as a result.

Bobby, of course, thought Dean had slept with another Witch. Months ago, Dean had discovered that being near another person with magic made him feel better, and that sex allowed their magic to intermingle, if only for a moment. He’d given up the practice, though, when his magic declined so sharply he couldn’t transform anymore. With the exchange then unequal, Dean didn’t want to be accused of taking advantage of anyone.

Which was when Aaron came into the picture, and didn’t that make things even more confusing?

Aaron frequently stopped by to check up on Dean, and since Castiel didn’t appear interested in leaving the apartment — except to check out the public library — he was always there when Aaron arrived. Aaron didn’t know what to make of the guy and seemed baffled about their relationship.

Which was probably why he came by more than he had before.

Dean himself couldn’t explain it. He barely knew Castiel, but he felt comfortable around him, was glad to have him there. Hell, part of Dean even _wanted_ Castiel, and that was alarming as heck because he was with Aaron…sort of.

It was complicated, hence Dean’s anxiety as he and Castiel packed up to meet at Bobby’s house for dinner. If Castiel couldn’t make it past Dean’s aunt and uncle, then…he didn’t know what would happen.

Castiel didn’t seem nervous, though his gait was stiffer than usual.

“Hey, you feeling alright?” Dean asked once they were on the road. He glanced over to Castiel in the passenger seat.

“I understand that if this doesn’t go well, I will have to leave.”

“Well, we’d figure something out—”

“And I don’t want to leave.”

Dean met his eyes for a second before he returned his gaze to the road. He inhaled a bracing breath.

“I don’t want you to leave either.”

“Then I will try not to ‘mess this up,’” Castiel said with unnecessary air quotes.

Dean snorted. He sure attracted the weird ones.

Ellen greeted Dean at the door, though her gaze narrowed when she noticed Castiel behind him. Dean had said he was bringing a guest, and he wondered what Ellen sensed from him. She wasn’t a Witch, but her husband and daughter were, so she’d lived around them practically her whole life.

Dean and Castiel stepped inside. Dean led him to the living room, where a small boar glared at them from his recliner seat.

“Come on, Rufus. Be nice,” Dean said. The pig snorted, letting out a low growl. Dean sighed. “Cas, this is my uncle’s Familiar, Rufus.”

“Hello, Rufus. Do you like your ears scratched?”

Rufus narrowed his eyes but Castiel, undeterred, went right up to him and scratched his ears. Rufus froze the moment Castiel touched him, but then he oinked and closed his eyes in pleasure.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Bobby strode into the room with a whistle. “How’d you know Rufus goes ga-ga for that?”

Castiel shrugged. “I enjoy animals.”

Bobby snorted. “Good thing you’re a Witch then. Though you’re….” He glanced between him and Dean. “You’re both Unbound?”

He said it like a question. Rufus grunted when Castiel removed his hand, but Castiel ignored him to face Bobby.

“Yes, I am.”

“And why is that exactly?”

“Bobby,” Dean started, though he was equally curious.

“I did not agree with my coven’s decisions in that regard.”

“What?” Dean said at the same time that Bobby demanded, “What coven?”

“My name is Castiel. I was of the Angelus Coven.” Castiel extended his hand, but Bobby just stared at him.

“The _Angelus_ Coven?” Bobby repeated. His gaze swung to Dean. “You’re hooking up with someone from the Angelus Coven? After we thought they were coming to kill us?”

“We’re not hooking up!” Dean protested, but Bobby held up his hand.

“Don’t give me that, boy. His magic’s all over you. I ain’t as dumb as I look.”

“Bobby, it’s not like that.”

“It’s true,” Castiel cut in. They all faced him as he spoke quietly, but firmly. “Dean and I don’t have a sexual relationship.”

“Oh really? Then what kind of relationship do you have?”

Castiel glanced at Dean. “A friendship, hopefully. He’s helping me. I…I ran away from my coven and I’ve been homeless ever since. Dean offered me a place to stay even knowing who I was. He’s been very kind.”

Bobby’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, effectively silenced.

“He was a Witch in our territory who needed help,” Dean added. “And we _are_ friends.” He said that directly to Castiel, who offered him a smile.

“But the Angelus Coven—”

“It’s been months since I left, and I don’t believe they’re pursuing me,” Castiel said. “I was…not one of their more powerful Witches.” At Bobby’s look, Castiel added, “I’m a dreamwalker.”

“A dreamwalker?” Bobby said finally, scratching his beard. “Never met one in my day, but I heard they can be plenty powerful.”

“Not when Unbound,” Castiel said with a tight smile.

Bobby shook his head, still processing his words. A buzzer chimed and Ellen departed to the kitchen, the scent of shepherd’s pie thick in the air.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s just been, you know,” Dean said, and Bobby blew out a long breath.

“Yeah, I know. It’s been crazy.” He shook his head again and eyed Dean. “You mind coming downstairs to grab some beer?” Dean recognized his desire to speak privately, and nodded.

“I’ll go help set the table,” Castiel said, and Bobby put his arms around Dean’s shoulders and steered him to the basement door.

Downstairs was musty and damp. As soon as they made it down the wooden staircase, Bobby rounded on Dean.

“You Resonating with him?”

Dean’s eyes widened in shock. That was not what he expected Bobby to say.

“Uh…what?”

“You can’t lie to me, and Rufus agrees.” Ah, so they had been gossiping about Dean telepathically. Darn those Bound Witches and Familiars. “Your magic?” Bobby continued. “It’s straining towards Cas. You feel that, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything? Boy, he’s your Witch!”

“No, he’s not! He said he can’t Resonate with anyone.”

“Then he’s a lying son of a bitch. His magic’s straining for you, too.”

Dean stepped back. “Wait, what? No way.”

Bobby smacked him upside the head. “Idjit, you should Bond already! I told you you’d find your Witch.”

Dean grimaced and rubbed his head, even as his heart pounded. Bobby couldn’t be right. It wasn’t possible. Was it?

“But he doesn’t…he can’t… I’m not gonna force him!”

“Then you’re both fools!” Bobby said, his hands on his hips. “And if he lets you die, so help me god, I’ll skin him alive.” Dean believed him, too, knowing the kind of spell work the old man was capable of.

With that, Bobby stomped back up the stairs and Dean reluctantly followed, his head spinning.

Ellen and Castiel were already seated and in mid-conversation when Dean arrived. Bobby, with more force than necessary, shoved back a chair at the head of the table and glowered at his plate. Ellen frowned at Bobby’s right, and Dean took the other head of the table.

“What crawled up your ass?” she muttered.

Castiel frowned at Dean. “Did you not find the beer?”

Dean smacked his face. “Oh my god.”

The rest of the meal went about as well as to be expected. Bobby eventually decided to stop being pissed, though his Bond through Rufus meant the pig was low-key growling the whole night — except for when Bobby snuck food under the table to feed him.

Ellen, bless her, kept the conversation light and steered the topics away from depressing things, like Dean’s imminent death. Instead, she spread news about Jo’s adventures with her new Familiar Ash, and how they were kicking ass out in the world.

Dean was glad to hear of it, though his mood soured when Bobby brought up yet another demon incident in town.

“Wait, _another_ one? Why didn’t I hear of this?” Dean asked.

“Cuz me and Rufus took care of it. Poor man. Almost gutted his daughter. Thankfully we exorcized him in time. The worst part though? They weren’t even supernatural, though I bet now they’ll be a whole lot more aware.”

“So the demons are just possessing whoever?”

“Appears that way.”

“This is the second one in two weeks. Should we be worried? I thought demons weren’t, you know, big threats usually.”

Dean snuck a peek at Castiel, who had frozen in his seat. His face was drained of color.

“Cas? You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he said stiffly.  

Glancing around the table, Dean saw that Castiel’s words had far from convinced everyone. He was thankful when Ellen, yet again, changed the subject.

The drive back to Dean’s apartment was quiet, and Dean yawned through his bedtime routine. He was pleasantly full from Ellen’s meal, but his mind whirred with all he had learned.

Was Castiel really his Witch? If he was, as Bobby was so sure, then why wasn’t he letting them Bond? And what exactly did he mean when he said that he hadn’t agreed with his coven’s decision, in regards to Familiars?

Then there was the whole demon thing. Should Dean be concerned?

He sighed. It had been a long day, so Dean bid Castiel goodnight and went to bed, wondering how he’d bring up the subject in the morning.

Only, when he woke up, it was to find a note on the kitchen table and Castiel’s bedroom empty.

He was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for explicit Dean/Aaron! Don't like, don't read. It should be fairly obvious where it starts, but message me if you want to know how to skip it.

Dean didn’t know why he was as furious as he was. Had he honestly thought that playing house with Castiel would’ve lasted? That it would’ve been a permanent situation with the two of them, after Dean somehow persuaded him to Bond?

He should’ve known better. The universe was out to get Dean Winchester, and that was just how it was. That he had allowed himself to hope was his own mistake, his own stupidity.

And now he wanted to break something…or something to break him.

He called out of work without any excuse. He let Ellen fabricate her own. Then, he dialed Aaron’s number, which was a terrible thing to do, but he couldn’t help it. Dean knew the guy had feelings for him, but hey, if Aaron was still willing to fuck him into the mattress, not caring that his love was unrequited, that was his problem, right? Not Dean’s.

Aaron, he knew, didn’t have a job. With the Golem came a hefty fortune from his grandfather, and to repay the old man for his generosity — at least karmically, since the guy was dead — Aaron had dedicated a portion of his week to volunteering at the Jewish community center and historical society.

And since it was only volunteering, that meant that he’d be able to bow out if he needed to.

As predicted, Aaron did just that. He must’ve sensed the implosion about to happen, as he told Dean to hold on and that he’d be at his place in ten minutes. That didn’t give Dean much time to clean and prep himself, but he’d done it in less time.

When Aaron arrived, breathless, Dean pounced.

“Need you, need you,” Dean panted as he crushed Aaron’s mouth to his, relishing the beard-burn. Aaron stumbled into his apartment and Dean shut the door behind them with his foot. Aaron brought his hands up to Dean’s shoulders and gently pushed him away.

“Whoa, hey, are you okay, man?”

“I’m _fine_. I just need you to fuck me.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Aaron, I swear to god—”

“No, Dean, this isn’t right. You’re like, super freaking out right now.”

Aaron’s worried eyes bored into Dean’s, and that’s what did it. The dam broke.

“I don’t wanna die,” Dean whispered. Tears squeezed from his eyes and he let Aaron lead him to the couch, where they both sat. “Cas was my Witch. He was _mine_. But he left. And now there’s no way…there’s no way I’m gonna make it.” His voice broke and he curled into Aaron, who tugged him close.

“What happened?” he asked, patting Dean on the back. Dean told him, the explanation shaky and stilted, but parsed down enough for Aaron to understand.

“Oh man. We gotta go after him,” Aaron said when Dean was finished.

“Why bother? He didn’t want to stay.”

“Or maybe he couldn’t. What did his note say?”

“Just, _thanks for everything_.”

“But if he really is your Witch, he’s dooming himself, too, right?”

“Yeah, which makes no fucking sense.” Dean shook his head, abruptly angry. “What the fuck is wrong with him? Why the fuck would he lead me on like that? He wanted us to be _friends_.”

“It was a douche move for sure,” Aaron said with a nod. “Alright, well, you know what I do when I’m upset?”

“Get high?”

“Dude, I have _some_ good coping mechanisms, sheesh. Give me some credit here. I’m an adult.”

Dean snorted. “Says the guy who rolled joints with—”

“OH MY GOD would you let that go? Jesus Christ!”

Aaron’s outburst did the trick, and Dean cracked a smile. “Don’t you mean Yahweh?”

“Yahweh Christ? How does that make sense?”

Dean stared at Aaron and gave him a small smile. He wiped his face with his arm. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now that you’ve had your mental breakdown, what should we do? I’m thinking we order pizza and watch shitty movies all day.”

“Shitty movies? Are you talking about my collection? Cuz I will beat your ass.”

“I’m just saying, if we have to watch Die Hard one more time—”

“Oh, you’re going down.” Dean tackled Aaron and claimed his mouth again. Aaron went loose beneath him, and they moved together slowly, their tongues teasing each other. Dean’s hand slid down Aaron’s chest to cup his growing bulge, and Aaron jumped when he squeezed lightly.

Dean chuckled against his mouth. “Someone’s eager.”

Aaron leaned back. “What? I’ve had a dry spell recently.”

Dean froze. “Aaron.…”

Aaron clapped a hand over his face. “No, please don’t start with this.”

“You shouldn’t be thinking this… _us_ —”

“I _know_ , okay? I know how you feel, and I know you think I should stop because you’re not gonna be here much longer, but I can’t help it!” Aaron stared at Dean, his expression fierce. “I just want to enjoy whatever time I can with you.”

Dean swallowed around a lump in his throat. He shook his head, but his expression was fond. “You’re too good to me.”

“Yeah well you’re kind of a bombshell so.”

“A _bombshell_? What’re you from the 40’s?”

“No, I’m just saying, if anything, you’re way outta _my_ league.”

Dean cocked his head, mock-thoughtful. “Well that _is_ true.” Aaron playfully smacked him and Dean grinned. “But seriously, dude, cut the old-fashioned slang. Just tell me I’m hot and get over it.”

“You’re hot.”

“Why thank you. And to think you’ve never even seen my animal forms.”

“Because I’m supposed to find you hot as a dog or bird? Oh my god is bestiality a _thing_ for you?”

Dean threw back his head and laughed, though he had the split second thought that at least Castiel had seen one of his animal forms before he left. It would probably be one of the last times he’d be able to handle a full transformation, because Castiel’s magic was already fading from his system.

“Uh, I was just kidding,” Aaron said unsurely, having noticed Dean’s vacancy for a moment. “Unless…you’re not?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m kidding. Now are you gonna fuck me or not?”

“Wait. Dean. Are you sure?”

“Yes, okay? I promise.” He smiled and kissed Aaron again. “Really, I’m okay. Now, I want your cock all up in me.”

Aaron wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know if the way you just said that is turning me on or not.”

Dean leaned forward to whisper in Aaron’s ear. “I want you to give it to me hard, baby. I wanna feel it for _days_. Think you can do that?” He squeezed Aaron’s bulge again, causing the other man to yelp.

“ _Fuck_. Yeah. I can do that.”

“Then come on, what you waiting for?” Dean leapt off the couch and raced to his bedroom, where he yanked off his clothes. Aaron was right behind him. He joined the frenzy and they clambered onto Dean’s bed once they were both naked.

Dean lay on his back and spread his legs, scooting down so he could lift his hips up. Aaron helped slide a pillow beneath him and then reached for the bottle of lube Dean kept stashed in his nightstand. He clicked open the bottle and smeared some on his fingers.

“Oh shit, did you prep yourself before I got here?” he asked as he slipped a slick finger past Dean’s rim.

“Just a little. Had to get ready for you, baby.”

Aaron had to close his eyes, his breaths shuddering out of him. “What you do to me, Dean Winchester. I swear I hate that Golem sometimes, but then I remember we never would’ve met without him.”

“Do you really have to bring up Greg when you’ve got a finger in my ass?”

Aaron let out a breathless laugh. “Okay, yeah, let’s forget I said anything.”

Dean squirmed as Aaron pressed in two fingers, carefully scissoring them. Dean jerked his cock to relieve some of the pressure, using his other hand to pass Aaron a condom.

“How do you want it?” Aaron asked. “Just like this, or doggy, or…?”

“I want you to pound me into the fucking mattress,” Dean said. He flipped over and put the pillow beneath his knees, which lifted his ass into the air. “How does that sound?”

Aaron’s reply came in the sound of a condom ripping open. Aaron lubed himself up, and then something blunt nudged at Dean’s hole. Dean tensed in anticipation and groaned when Aaron’s cock just eased up and down the cleft of his ass.

“Come on, man! Give it to me! Don’t be such a tease.” Dean shoved back at him and Aaron gasped when the head caught and tugged on Dean’s rim before moving away.

“ _F-fuck_ just give me a minute, holy _shit_.”

Dean smirked into his hands and waited. Aaron was not a calm and collected person in any aspect of his life, as they’d discovered the first few times they’d fooled around. Dean knew he had to just be patient and—

“ _Oohhhhh_ fuck,” Dean grunted out as Aaron finally, _finally_ pushed in. He was of average length, but he was wider than most. Dean loved the thick feeling of him, how his girth split Dean open. Dean took it and took it, his face screwed up in pleasure as Aaron gasped behind him.

“So tight, so fucking good, oh god yes, just take it,” Aaron babbled and Dean shifted his hips, allowing Aaron even deeper. Aaron whimpered when he bottomed out, his hips flush against Dean’s. “God you’re so beautiful. Jesus Christ, Dean. So fucking beautiful like this.”

“Mmm, like me stretched around your fat cock, huh, baby? It burns and feels _so good_.”

“You okay?” Aaron asked breathlessly.

“Hell yeah.”

“Good, cuz I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t move.” Aaron rolled forward and pulled back, starting a rhythm that steadily built. Aaron’s hands clenched Dean’s hips as he drove himself harder into Dean’s greedy hole, and Dean squeezed him each time.

The burn was _perfect_. The wet drag of it, the slapping of skin, Aaron’s grunts. Dean arched his back and Aaron’s cock brushed that bundle of nerves that had him seize up.

“Oh _fuck_ me,” Dean gasped. His mouth fell open and he squeezed his eyes shut as Aaron managed to find that perfect spot a few more times. Between his legs, Dean’s cock hung heavy and leaking, and he tugged at it, smearing pre-come down his shaft. The dual sensation on his cock and his hole was just what he wanted. Castiel seemed like a distant memory. In fact, _fuck_ Castiel. Fuck him. Dean didn’t care anymore.

Dean was dying, but so was everyone else. What did it matter if he went now or later? All that mattered was that, in this moment, Dean was _alive_. His nerves screamed, his muscles ached, his heart pounded.

He was _alive_.

Aaron pistoned his hips, fucking Dean hard enough that the lube wore off and Dean’s rim began to chafe. He knew Aaron was close, with the way his rhythm stuttered, so Dean let it happen, let the rawness of the pain carry him to new heights of bliss.

When Aaron locked up inside him with a grunt, his cockhead glanced off of Dean’s prostate and that was it, that’s all folks. Dean shot white all over his bed, stripping his cock in his fist as come poured from him in spurts, his mouth open in a silent scream. Aaron fucked him through it with his softening cock, moaning softly.

Dean’s whole body was trembling when Aaron finally pulled out. Dean collapsed away from the wet spot and onto his stomach, wrung out, his muscles protesting his previous fixed position. Dean drifted for a second but he returned when Aaron knelt next to the bed and touched his face.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. “Sorry, it got kinda rough and I didn’t ask.…”

“S’good,” Dean slurred, and Aaron grinned.

If Dean were honest, this was his favorite of Aaron’s expressions. There was such love in his eyes and his dopey, blissed-out smile. It made Dean feel like he was worth something, like he wasn’t some broken, Unbound Familiar with a looming deadline.

At the same time, he felt bad that he couldn’t give him what he wanted. He liked Aaron, he did, but not in the same way. And hell, it was better and easier for them both to keep their attachments at bay with him on the verge of dying.

Dean hummed when Aaron reappeared — when had he left? — with a warm washcloth. He cleaned Dean up and then sat on the edge of the bed.

“Aw man, there’s a giant wet spot. Move over.”

Dean’s eyes closed and he mumbled a response.

“Dean. Come on. Move your ass.”

“Move it for me,” Dean said, trying to inject it with sexual innuendo, but it fell flat in the wake of his post-coital sluggishness. Aaron sighed dramatically but stretched out behind Dean, scooting close to avoid the wet spot. He ended up pressed right against Dean, and their sweaty skin stuck together.

“That was really awesome,” Aaron said into Dean’s shoulder.

“Mmhmm.”

“You gonna sleep now?”

“Mmmm.”

“Alright then, little spoon.”

“Mmmm.”

“Dean?”

Dean couldn’t summon enough energy to respond, but he felt Aaron snuggle into him, the whiskers of his beard tickling Dean’s arm.

“I love you,” Aaron whispered, and Dean’s heart ached. He pretended to fall asleep, and despised himself when, just before he lost consciousness, he thought of Castiel and hoped he was alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I have to say that Dean's coping mechanism is NOT healthy, but at least he knows it. Poor babe :( He needs Cas back!
> 
> On a side note, I've officially started both grad programs. Despite my homework, I've managed to find time so far to squeeze out more chapters. I think I should be okay with the regular updates, but yeah! We shall see what the future holds. All I know is that this story is really fun to write, and it's practically writing itself! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	9. Chapter 9

One week passed, then two, then three.

Dean ended up revealing what had happened with him and Castiel to both Benny _and_ Charlie (her version was _very_ watered down) during that first week, when all he did was mope around and avoid Aaron’s texts. Thankfully, Dean’s friends were awesome and they kept him busy with board games, movies, and drunken hangouts. Aaron even showed up to some of them, after Dean invited him by way of apology.

Though things were weird between them—or at least weird for Dean—he forgot that being around Aaron didn’t take much effort. That was one of the reasons Dean really liked him, and also one of the reasons he felt guilty about not liking him _enough_. But Aaron was easy-going enough to let it flow right off his shoulders, so Dean tried not to dwell.

 It was in moments between friends, between shifts, between night and day, that Dean felt like the world was crashing down upon him. His loneliness gnawed at him, and even calls from Sam or his parents fell flat.

It especially didn’t help that his mom knew everything, and was furious on his behalf. Dean wished he hadn’t relented and told her, because what was the point of her anger? Castiel was gone.

Or was he?

Dean’s magic sensing was still pretty haywire, even with Castiel’s temporary boost, so he couldn’t trust it but…even though Castiel was _gone_ , it still felt like he was around somewhere. Every time Dean walked the street to The Roadhouse—occasionally cutting through the alleyway for nostalgia’s sake—it was like Castiel was lurking nearby. Dean expected to see him around every corner, on every park bench, under every streetlight. They had spent such little time together, but Dean ached for him.

It was pathetic, but as much as Dean tried to shake it off, the feeling persisted, until one day, he drowned in it.

He didn’t know what triggered the sudden stifling feeling, but when he walked into Sweet Tooth, he couldn’t breathe. Gabriel was behind the counter whistling, and the tiny café was dead. It was just past the morning rush, and a little too early for lunch, so Dean was alone, and Gabriel noticed him right away.

“Mornin’ Dean-o. Whoa, hey, you’re looking a bit peaky. You okay?”

Dean forced a cough through his closed throat. “Yeah,” he gasped but nodded stiffly. “Fine.” That’s when dots began to swim in his vision, and Dean sank to his knees. “Fuck,” he breathed, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Oh shit,” Gabriel said, and before Dean knew it, the small man had vaulted the counter and was at his side, peering anxiously into his face. “Hey, hey, no dying in my cafe, y’hear? Gives it a bad reputation. Just breathe.” Gabriel’s demonstration was obnoxious but it did the trick, and Dean’s lungs refilled with precious oxygen.

Gabriel thumped him on the back. “There ya go, big guy.” He blew out air, his weaselly face screwed into a frown. “I’m gonna kill him, I swear,” he muttered under his breath.

“Kill who?” Dean said, not quite with it, but enough to process Gabriel’s cryptic words.

“Oh, no one,” Gabriel said in a sing-song voice. “You know what? I know exactly what you need to feel better right now.” He guided Dean to the nearest chair and then disappeared behind the counter. He reappeared a few minutes later with a plate of fresh cherry pie, still warm from the oven.

Dean’s mouth salivated as Gabriel handed him a spoon. “Oh my god.” Dean took a bite and swooned. “Dude, how did you know cherry’s my favorite?”

“I’ve got two talents as a Witch. The first is to know what people like, and the second, well, that’s a secret.” He winked and Dean couldn’t be bothered to ask more because the pie was too glorious, and he had to eat every last crumb. It melted in his mouth and he moaned.

“This is _amazing_ ,” he said, his mouth full. “You some sort of empath? How’d you know?”

Gabriel shrugged. “What can I say? My powers are linked to the stomach.”

“But isn’t it illegal to use them to sell crap? You’re taking advantage of people.”

“I’m offended that you think I’d use my powers for evil. I run a _café_.”

“You could be poisoning us for all we know.”

“Yes, well, at least it’s _delicious_ poison, am I right or am I right?”    

Dean had to agree it was, and in fact, he felt loads better than just moments before. The pie had rejuvenated him, and at that thought, he narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Did you feed some of your magic into this?”

“Maaaaybe.”

Dean closed his eyes. “Dude, why? It’s not going to do anything.”

“Right. Except make you feel better and prolong your life a little more. I’d say that’s a win-win. No hair off my back.”

“Ew. I think you meant _skin_ off your back.”

“That’s still a gross expression. I regret bringing it up.”

The bell over the door jingled as customers strode in, and Gabriel returned to his place behind the counter. Dean glanced down at his pie plate and considered going to town on the cherry smudges left over, when something brushed his legs. He shot upward with a yelp and glanced down to see a black cat eyeing him coolly.

Dean knew, instantly, that it was a Bonded Familiar. The cat sauntered to the counter and leapt up onto it. Curling its tail around itself, the cat raised a paw and cleaned itself, its yellow eyes never leaving Dean. He gulped.   

“Uh…”

Customers passed in front of Dean, momentarily obscuring his view. When they were gone, he inched toward the counter. Gabriel was leaning against it, rubbing his nose in the cat’s fur. The cat endured it with a long-suffering expression.

Dean checked that the coast was clear before saying, “Huh. So this is your Familiar. Mind introducing us?”

“Kali, this is Dean. Dean, this is Kali. She’s a bit temperamental.”

Kali growled and her tail flicked.

“But she’s also sweet,” Gabriel said, and adopted a little kid voice. “Isn’t that right my little fluffy muffin?”

If looks could kill, Gabriel would be a smoking crater on the floor.

Dean grinned. “Sorry you have to put up with him.”

Kali rolled her eyes.

“Oh she’s used to it. And no, put that away,” Gabriel said as Dean pulled out his wallet.

“Seriously? That pie was heaven in my mouth.”

“It was my gift to you, good chum.”

“You gave me some of your magic.”

Gabriel waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, well, I have my reasons. One of them being that you do good for our little supernatural community around here. It’s nice to know we’re all safe and cozy.”

“Yeah, except for all those pesky demons,” Dean said, and the smile slipped from Gabriel’s face. The way he paled reminded Dean of Castiel. “Wait, do you know something about them?”

In the past few weeks alone, three more cases had cropped up. If it weren’t Samhain next week and his family wasn’t already coming to visit, Bobby would’ve called them in to serve as back-up. It was getting ridiculous, and Dean wished he could be more helpful. So far, he’d just tagged along with Bobby and Rufus to add another voice to the exorcism spell, though he’d also appeared at the police station to keep them updated. Victor, Jody, and Donna all had copies of the spell in their desk to memorize in their spare time.

The last possession had been a little kid, yet another human, and Dean hated that she had been so violently exposed to the supernatural world. How would she live her life after this? Afraid of shadows, growing up jealous of the majority that still lived in ignorant bliss? And what about her parents? Would they support her, or would they go nuts trying to quell their own fears?

“Oh, kitty!”

Dean turned to see Charlie’s head bobbing past him, making a beeline for Kali on the counter.

“So cute!” Charlie stroked Kali’s head. The cat allowed it, standing up so she could swish her tail and butt in Gabriel’s face.

He mimed spitting out cat fur. “Oh yeah, she’s real adorable.”

“She? What’s her name?”

“Kali.”

“Oh I love it! I had a cat when I was younger. I named her Rowena Ravenpaw. She was gray, like the Grey Lady.”

“ _Dork_ ,” Dean coughed under his breath and Charlie swatted at him.

“Shut it, you. I bet your pets didn’t have clever names.”

“Well, yeah, cuz we didn’t have pets.”

Charlie gasped. “What? No pets? Not even a fish?”

Dean laughed at her scandalized expression. It wasn’t like he could say he didn’t have pets growing up because it was redundant, with his whole family being Familiars and all.

“Okay, whatever, I’m just glad I found you here.” Charlie sobered. She jerked her head to a table in the corner, and Dean shot Gabriel another grateful look before joining her in their usual spot.

“What’s up?” Dean asked, confused because Charlie looked serious.

She chewed on her lip. “Um. So. Yesterday? I saw Castiel. I think.”

Dean’s eyes bugged. “What?”

“Well, he looked like how you described him, you know? I could be wrong but...he had that red hoodie you mentioned.”

Castiel had taken off from Dean’s apartment with only his clothes—he’d left the ones he’d borrowed from Dean neatly folded up in the drawers. Since then, Dean had, somewhat subconsciously, checked out anyone wearing anything resembling a red hoodie.

“So he _is_ here,” Dean said. He found that he’d stood up and made himself sit back down. Maybe he wasn’t crazy after all. Unfortunately, that meant that Castiel was purposely avoiding him.

What had Dean done wrong? What had driven Castiel away?

“Dean?” Charlie asked, her brow furrowed with worry, and Dean forced a smile.

“What? It’s nothing. Just weird, is all. I’ll have to see if I catch him one of these days.”

And like that, Dean formulated a plan. It was a dumb one, but Gabriel’s little magical boost meant that it was actually possible—and a now or never kind of thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot for this story keeps attacking me! I want to find a way to wrap it up soon, but alas, it might take longer than expected, haha!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor animal violence!

Dean had to wait till the next day to go through with his plan, though. It would’ve been pointless to do at night, because tracking Castiel would be easier when he could actually _see_.

Dean pondered what form to take as he got ready for bed. He had the day off of work anyways, so he didn’t have to feel guilty about lying to Ellen. With his parents slated to visit soon, he needed all the brownie points he could score so they wouldn’t demand Dean come back to Lawrence at once.

The thing was, if Dean’s plan worked, then he might be able to permanently assure them he was alright. At this point, Dean wasn’t beyond begging, and he was willing to do anything to have Castiel stay with him. Whatever he had done, whatever made Castiel leave, he’d fix it. He just didn’t want this to be the end for him. It seemed that, finally, his survival instinct had kicked in.

Dean didn’t want to die.

And he also didn’t want to worry his brother. Sam was anxious for updates on his condition, but Dean was careful not to reveal too much each time they talked. With Sam and Sarah coming next week, too, as Samhain was a big family holiday for Witches and Familiars, Dean especially wanted to show Sam that he would be alright. The kid was at school and had a bright future ahead of him with his Bonded Witch. He didn’t need to take time out of his busy schedule to fret over his brother’s pathetic life.

These thoughts swirled through Dean’s head as he lay down to sleep.

And that night, he dreamed.

Dean was sitting on the end of a wooden dock, a fishing pole in his hands and a lake spread before him. The area was surrounded by trees, and the sky ahead was bright blue with white clouds that drifted past. Dean sucked in a huge lungful of air and felt more at peace than he had in a long time. The place was silent except for the ripples of the water whenever the wind blew. Dean smiled, tilting his head into the sunlight.

He gasped when he felt a presence behind him. His chair creaked as he shifted to see Castiel standing there, a concerned look on his face. Oddly, he wore a suit and trench coat that flapped in the breeze.

“Are you alright, Dean?” he asked.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Dean said. He set down the fishing pole so he could cross his arms over his chest. It was time to give this dream Castiel a piece of his mind. “What the hell, Cas? What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“But you left!”

“It was getting dangerous. They were…they were close to finding me.”

“What? They? Your coven? I thought you said they weren’t after you?”

Castiel gazed out across the lake, his jaw tightening. “I was wrong.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. It’s safer for me to leave.”

Dean couldn’t hold himself back. “You’re leaving me to die. You know that, right?”

Castiel stiffened. “Whatever we felt, it wasn’t—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Cas!” The chair scraped on the wood as Dean stood and got right in Castiel’s face. “We were resonating, without a talisman! You’re my Witch and I’m your Familiar!”

Castiel’s eyes were pained as he shook his head and backed away a few steps. “We can’t be. I’m sorry.”

“Why not? Am I really that messed up?”

Castiel’s face fell. “Dean, it’s not you. Please believe me. I just want you to be safe. You don’t want me as your Witch.”

“But _why_?” Dean shouted.

“Because.”

“Because _WHY_?”

“Because I bring death to everyone I care about!” Castiel’s chest heaved as his confession resounded through the air. He avoided Dean’s eyes. “I killed my best friend. It was my fault.”

“Cas…” Dean said, not sure what else to say. He put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and Castiel closed his eyes.

“That’s why we can’t Bond,” Castiel said. “I’m sorry.”

“But Cas, don’t you get it? I’m not going to Bond with anyone else. My time’s running out. And yours, too.” Dean’s voice was incredulous. He couldn’t believe Castiel was pulling this martyr bullshit. (Then again, he was a giant hypocrite and could guess how the guy was feeling.)

Castiel sighed. “I know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I heard from Gabriel that you….” Castiel trailed off, realizing his mistake.

Dean’s eyes widened. “So you _are_ still around. Wait, you’re dreamwalking right now, aren’t you?” This was the _real_ Castiel. Holy shit. And Dean knew that dreamwalkers needed to be in range of their targets, so he couldn’t be too far. Then it hit him. “Hold on, _Gabriel_? Is he helping you?”

Castiel glanced down. “He’s good at concealment charms.”

“He’s helping you hide?”

“For now.”

“But why? Why would he help you?”

Castiel lifted his face. “He’s my brother.”

Dean let out an outraged breath, shaking his head as he muttered, “I’m gonna bash that dweeb’s head in.”

“Dean…”

“No, Cas. I’m gonna find you and we’re gonna make this work, okay? I’m dead either way, so what does it matter?”

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true! And Cas, I’d rather have you—cursed or not. Can’t you just give me a chance?”

Castiel’s image flickered. He was trying to end the dream.

“Cas, wait!” Dean called to his retreating form. “I’m gonna find you and we’re gonna talk this out!”

Castiel vanished, taking with it Dean’s consciousness. He sank into a deep, untroubled sleep, and didn’t wake until sunlight streamed through his window.

Dean rubbed the crustiness from his eyes and sat up, the dream with Castiel slamming back into him.

Castiel was still _here_ , damn it. Charlie was right.

And Dean had a mission.

He made himself a big breakfast, dressed, and evaluated his magic. The bit from Gabriel still tingled through his system—it wasn’t much, barely even a boost, but it’d have to do.

Dean would figure it out later if he ran into any problems.

With that, Dean went outside and locked the door to his apartment, slipping his key into his jeans pocket. In his hands, he clutched a shirt he’d given to Castiel, which he’d not yet washed. Closing his eyes, Dean dropped the shirt and then concentrated, pooling his magic. He felt himself shrink, then a second of strangeness where his body contorted. Then he was standing on four short, stubby legs.

He’d chosen the form of a Beagle instead of his favored German Shepherd, mostly because German Shepherds were big, intimidating dogs that drew attention.

To track down Castiel, Dean needed to be as discreet as possible, and he didn’t want humans getting in the way. He’d had far too many run-ins with people thinking he was an escaped pet, or worse, some sort of rabid police dog.

Dean snuffled into the shirt to pick up the initial scent, and then he was off. Dean weaved around people, swerving through alleyways and along sidewalks, crossing the street. Castiel’s scent was faint, and the closer he got to the center of town, the more it blended into the smells of other people. Dean still picked it out of the crowd, but it faded so much that he found himself walking in circles, inhaling short, quick sniffs.

“Puppy!” a child cried out, and Dean veered out of the boy’s way. He had to find Castiel. He just _had_ to. He was around here somewhere, and as good as Gabriel was at hiding—which, how good was he really? Dean hadn’t a clue—he couldn’t erase where Castiel had been before the spell was cast or the charm was made.

Dean, unsurprisingly, found himself loitering outside Sweet Tooth for a good while. The smells were intoxicating in more than one way. Castiel had been here. Dean knew it. But walking so far had made him tired and thirsty, and he wasn’t sure where to go from here.

A meow caught his attention, and he found Kali in the form of a Calico cat. She was curled up on a balcony overlooking the alleyway next to Sweet Tooth—most likely it was Gabriel’s apartment.

He barked at her and her tail flicked. What did she want?

Castiel had definitely been here. No wonder Dean got so hot and bothered walking into the café. Dean should’ve realized that Castiel wouldn’t come to Sioux Falls without a reason—he was seeking asylum with his brother, who Dean assumed had also run away from their coven, seeing as he was all alone out here. Why had he never considered Gabriel’s origins before?

And more importantly, why had Castiel hidden in an alley the night they met, just waiting to die? Why hadn’t he gone straight to Gabriel?

Just then, Dean caught a whiff of Castiel, a fresher trail this time that led away from Sweet Tooth. Ignoring Kali, who merely huffed at him, he darted off. The path was meandering, so he had to slow down to keep on top of it, often backtracking and circling to take long sniffs and make sure it was right.

He was so intent on the search that he didn’t register where he’d ended up.

The road wasn’t busy, per se, but it wasn’t empty either, and with his nose to the pavement, Dean didn’t register the car until there was the squeal of brakes and he was flying sideways. There was a crunching sound, and a pained yelp burst from his mouth. His eyelids fluttered as he tried to understand why he was lying down all of a sudden.

Castiel’s smell was gone, in its place burning rubber.

“Oh my god, no, no, no!” came a familiar voice, followed by the slamming of a door.

This couldn’t be happening. The universe really _did_ hate him, didn’t it?

Not only had he just been hit by a car—because of his own stupidity, really—but he’d been hit by _Charlie_.

Tears streamed down her face as she crouched beside him.

“Oh, poor doggie. Oh god, oh god, you’re alive. Thank god.” She babbled on and on, stroking his fur anxiously as she fumbled to grab her phone from her pocket.

Dean tried to evaluate his injuries with a quick mental assessment, but that’s when the pain kicked in. He whimpered and barely heard Charlie talking on the phone. The pain suffused his body until he drifted away from it, and finally lost consciousness.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your reactions from last chapter were so fun, haha! Poor Dean. He really doesn't get any breaks, does he?

Dean hated hospitals, but you know what he hated more than hospitals?

 _Veterinarian hospitals_.

The smell of antiseptic was the same, but layered on top of that was feces, piss, and anxious sweat from a whole bunch of nervous or drugged animals. Not to mention the noise—the restless meowing and barking and shuffling in tiny, echoing cages. Dean was not a fan. He’d gotten sent to the pound once when he’d gone off on his own. His parents were furious, but they figured he’d learned his lesson. They were right. He never made that mistake again.

Until now.

Dean woke, and at first, he was too groggy to recall what had happened. Then, when it all came crashing back, he glanced down at himself and whimpered. His front left leg—his arm as a human—was in a bright yellow cast, and there were red bruises all along his body. Dean thanked whatever god existed that the vets hadn’t stuck his head in a cone, or he’d really be going nuts.

Though he was still royally fucked.

Like, really, truly, up the creek without a fucking paddle.

First off, he had no collar. They’d keep him at the vet for a little while, waiting for someone to show up or to see if he had a microchip. If no one did, they’d ship him to the pound to make room for the next case. He’d heal, but then…well, then he’d be screwed. If the pound was no-kill, he’d live, but basically be in jail for a while—until his parents showed, freaked out that he’d disappeared, and eventually tracked him down. Then Dean would never hear the end of it.

But no matter what, thanks to his low magic, a transformation back to his human self just wasn’t possible. He wasn’t going to be in his human form for a long time.

The little bit of magic from Gabriel was long gone as his body refocused efforts to heal itself. If he were Bound, he’d be back up and running in no time. Familiars and Witches healed faster than regular humans, but since Dean was so depleted, it was likely going to take a while.

Dean moaned and dropped his head back down. Now what?

An indeterminate amount of time passed. A vet checked up on him once, patted his head, and then moved on to fill out the rest of her clipboard. Dean didn’t have the energy to do anything but sit there and wallow, so that’s what he did.

Sometime later, a cat started yowling and the whole room of cages erupted with sound. Animals fidgeted and upturned their food bowls, scattering pellets everywhere. Dean growled, wishing they would all go away and he could curl back into his misery.

Then he had a crazy thought. Castiel was a dreamwalker. Could Dean contact _him_ through a dream if he tried really hard? The guy had made it pretty clear that he didn’t want to help Dean, but it was the only idea he had. Luckily, the vets had given him some painkillers, and they came with a side of drowsiness. As Dean closed his eyes, he concentrated, repeating words like a mantra:

_Cas, you there? I need you. I need you. I need you._

When Dean next woke, he couldn’t recall if he’d dreamed or not. He immediately deflated. When Castiel dreamwalked with him before, Dean remembered it vividly the next morning. This time? Not so much.

Dean was stuck.

He ate a little and drank some water to at least get the vets off his back. He knew from experience that not eating or drinking meant they’d poke him and pump him full of more drugs. Thankfully, in dog form, dog food tasted perfectly fine, but his human side still craved real food. He told it to shut up, because he wasn’t going to get lucky anytime soon.

Or was he?

By some miracle, Dean felt a familiar _ping!_ jolt through his body. He snapped his head up, his ears primed and his tail wagging. Was it possible? Was it _actually_ possible?

Yes, it was! Dean would recognize that voice anywhere.

“He must’ve slipped out of the collar,” came Castiel’s voice, echoing down the row of cages. He was walking with one of the vets.

“What breed did you say he was again?” the vet asked, and Castiel’s pause was too long.

 _BEAGLE!_ Dean thought as hard as he could, and Castiel actually stumbled to the side.

“He’s a Beagle,” he said, once he’d righted himself.

Dean’s eyes widened. They really _were_ meant to be with each other if they could communicate telepathically without Bonding first. Oh man, he was going to rail into him once he was free.

The vet and Castiel stopped outside his cage, and Dean met Castiel’s eyes. He woofed and wagged his tail harder—which was only partially an act, because he was honestly damn happy to see the guy.

“There you are, Mr. Fluffles,” Castiel said, and Dean froze.

What the fuck did Castiel just call him?

But he perked back up, swallowing his growl. Castiel, the motherfucker, just beamed. Then his eyes fell on Dean’s cast. He put his hands on the bars of Dean’s cage.

“What happened?”

“He got hit by a car.”

Castiel sucked in a breath and Dean leaned forward to lick his fingers, wanting him to know that he was okay.

“Yeah, he was lucky,” the vet said. “He just got clipped, so the break was clean. We were able to set it without any trouble, so he should be back up to speed in a few weeks.”

“Thank you.” Castiel swallowed hard. “Don’t worry, Mr. Fluffles. I’ll be right back,” he added as they walked away, the vet babbling on about paperwork. Dean didn’t know what Castiel was going to do about that— _so many_ forged documents—but he returned rather quickly. The vet released Dean with a blank expression on her face, and Dean realized Castiel must’ve put a quick spell on her.

“I’m a terrible liar,” Castiel said as he picked Dean up and carried him out the front door of the hospital. Dean would’ve protested that he could walk on his own, but the reality was that he was a dog, and one of his legs was busted.

Dean just sat there and tried to ignore how right it felt to be in Castiel’s arms.

Outside, it was around noon, which was crazy because Dean’s whole schedule was completely whacked. The lack of windows inside meant he had had no idea of the passing of time, and oh great, they were expecting him at The Roadhouse in a few hours.

What was he going to tell Ellen? Not to mention Benny, who’d been concerned about Dean these past few weeks.

“He’s okay! Oh, what good timing.”

Dean snapped out of his internal musings when Charlie bounded into view. Behind her, where she’d parked her ugly-ass Volkswagon bug against the curb, Dean could see a dent in the front left of her fender. He cringed.

“I just wanted to check, you know?” she continued. “I’ve never hit anything before, let alone someone’s _dog_. I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t see him. It was all my fault, I—”

“No, it’s quite all right. Accidents happen.”

“No, please, let me pay his medical bills. Oh, poor guy.” Charlie patted Dean’s head and Castiel had to shift and readjust him in his arms.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re all set.”

“What’s his name?”

“Um. Mr. Fluffles.”

“Oh _no_ that’s adorable!” Charlie sniffled. “So he’s really okay?”

“Yes, he’ll be fine. I’ve got to get him home now, if you don’t mind—”

“Do you need a ride or anything? Can I help you at all? I just feel terrible! I keep hearing it in my head and….”

Castiel grunted, and struggled suddenly beneath Dean’s weight.

Dean growled. Castiel better not drop him.

“That would actually be wonderful,” Castiel said. “He’s heavier than I realized.”

Dean shot Castiel as menacing a glare as he could and Charlie laughed.

“Wow, it’s almost like he understood you! Come on, my car’s right here. We can put Mr. Fluffles in the backseat.”

And that’s how Dean found himself returning home—in a very different way from which he’d left it.

Which was just so _great_ because Castiel was directing Charlie to Dean’s apartment. Charlie, who didn’t know about the supernatural world, and more specifically didn’t know about _Dean’s_ part in the supernatural world.

Things could get ugly. He just prayed Charlie wouldn’t question it.

“Huh, my friend lives here,” Charlie said as she steered smoothly into the parking lot of Dean’s complex. “Maybe you’ve met him? His name’s Dean.”

Castiel made no sound, and Dean willed him to say something, _anything_.

“Oh. I don’t know. Perhaps I have.” Castiel opened the door. “Thank you for the ride…?”

“Charlie. My name’s Charlie. And you are?”

“Castiel,” he said, and Dean groaned. They both glanced at him, but it was too late.

“Wait, _Castiel_? As in…” Dean could practically hear the gears turning in her head.

Dean had spilled the whole story about Castiel to his mom, but he’d only let slip a little bit with Charlie, unless he was remembering their drunken evening wrong. Which, now that he thought about it, he couldn’t quite recall what he’d said.

Shit. This wasn’t good.

“Are you here to see Dean?” Charlie said, her voice angry.

Castiel stiffened. His eyes darted to Dean in the backseat, and Dean could see him mentally calculating their situation. At least he seemed to get that Charlie wasn’t in the know about Dean being a Familiar.

“I…I was hoping to run into him.”

“After you just took off and left? That was seriously a dick move. So what do you want now? His forgiveness? Dean thought you guys were friends. He _cared_ about you.”

Castiel’s shoulders slumped. “And I cared for him. Which was why I had to leave—”

“That’s bullshit! Come on, don’t you know Dean at all? He’d go to the ends of the earth and back for somebody he cared about—because he wouldn’t leave them behind. That’s one thing you should know. He’s a loyal guy. Like one time he—”

Charlie laid into Castiel with a story Dean remembered, though he hadn’t realized how much it meant to Charlie. He’d simply stood up for her against some assholes, but apparently, no one had ever done that for her before. Hearing it from Charlie’s perspective made Dean embarrassed. He shouldn’t be listening to this. These were her private thoughts about _him_.

Dean whined in the backseat and fidgeted to get their attention. The distraction worked, and though Dean was happy to see that Castiel was properly chastised for leaving, he really needed to get out of this car.

Charlie’s goodbye was stilted, but she dropped off her number with Castiel in case he needed any help with ‘Mr. Fluffles.’ She apologized yet again for hitting him with her car, and Dean was grateful when finally, _finally_ , she drove off.

Dean was back in Castiel’s arms, and he relished it because it wasn’t going to last long. Once Castiel dropped him off, that’d be it, most likely. It was amazing he’d made it this far, and Dean was thankful Castiel had showed up at all.

Though a part of him desperately wished Castiel would stay.

Which was why he was shocked when Castiel brought him up to his apartment, let himself and Dean inside with a quick unlocking spell, and mingled long after he’d set Dean on the floor. Dean cocked his head up at him.

Castiel shifted uncomfortably and jammed his hands into his pockets. “I don’t suppose…you’d mind if I hung around for a bit? I just want to make sure you were okay. When you called to me I couldn’t…I thought for sure….” His shoulders sagged. “I was so worried.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Dean. This is all my fault.”

Dean whined and limped over to him. The cast was super annoying, but he made it to Castiel’s feet and prodded his leg with his head. Castiel bent down to scratch his ears.

“Are you able to transform back into your human self?” he asked.

Dean assessed himself and shook his head. It wasn’t looking good on that front. His magic was so low he could barely sense it at all. He still felt out of it, too, whether from the drugs or whatever, but at this rate…he wouldn’t make it past Samhain. He was stupid for using so much magic, but at least it’d brought him to Castiel. Maybe not like he’d planned, but he still had a chance.

Dean let out a surprised huff when Castiel scooped him up and shuffled over to the couch.  Castiel grabbed the remote and stretched out to his full length, Dean clinging to his lap.

“Let me help you,” Castiel said as his broad hand stroked down Dean’s head and back. He shivered at the pleasant touch, soothed by the hypnotic pattern. Castiel turned on the TV to a station playing a Dr. Sexy marathon, but Dean didn’t even watch it. His eyes closed as Castiel’s motions lulled him to a calmness he hadn’t felt since his mom last did this for him as a child.

If he were a cat, he’d be purring long before now, but since he was a dog, he just lay his head between his first two paws and felt Castiel’s heart beating below his. Dean rose and fell with Castiel’s steady breaths, and it wasn’t long before he’d fallen into a deep, deep sleep.

There were no dreams at all this time, only a feeling of peace and lightness and _fullness_ , which he couldn’t really explain. All he knew was that for the first time during his ten years of being Unbound, Dean didn’t feel lonely. It was like someone else was there with him. He didn’t know who they were, since whenever he turned they remained just out of sight, but he could still sense them, and he was comforted by that. He’d be okay. He’d survive—no, he’d _thrive_. He wasn’t alone anymore.

When Dean awoke, it was nighttime. He stumbled off of Castiel and, on two feet, walked to the bathroom to take a piss. It was while he was standing there, half-awake, that he realized he was human again, wearing the same clothes from before he took dog form.

He was human without even consciously considering the transformation. Not only that, but the cast was gone from his arm, and the bones were completely healed and pain-free.

How the heck had that happened?

Then Dean felt it, a thread from the other room, and he knew Castiel was awake. He also knew that Castiel was cold without Dean lying on him, but how did he know? How…?

Dean finished up in the bathroom and flew back into the living room.

Castiel must’ve felt Dean’s panic, because he was already sitting up with wide eyes. They stared at each other for a moment and then Dean spoke, his voice awed.

“Holy shit. We Bonded.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT FINALLY HAPPENED OMG. 
> 
> Also, Mr. Fluffles makes me laugh.
> 
> Also also, I keep wanting to wrap up this story because I'm so busy irl, but plot happens and I'm like...okay, I guess I can't resolve this anytime soon... So yeah, I'll keep going until it's done!


	12. Chapter 12

It didn’t make sense. It _couldn’t_ make sense.

“We didn’t even do the ritual, or have talismans. How could we have Bonded?” Dean said, throwing his hands up in the air. These kinds of things just didn’t happen—especially when the Witch and Familiar were both _asleep_!

“I don’t know,” Castiel said, and Dean could sense his confusion, not to mention the scowl on his face.

“Well, what do we do?” Dean asked. As far as he knew, their magics had consented without their knowledge. Dean was all for it—and in fact, he felt like he could actually _breathe_ for the first time in forever—but Castiel hadn’t wanted it. He hadn’t wanted to Bond with Dean.

Dean’s stomach plummeted. Destroying Bonds was not easy, and most of the time, it ended with both parties dead. The fact that they’d Bonded without even trying meant it would be hell to break…if it was even possible.

“Dean?”

Dean glanced over to where Castiel was eyeing him in concern. “What’s wrong? You’re…panicking.”

Dean inhaled a breath and blinked back tears. “Um, no I was just thinking I guess we need to find a way to break it, huh?” He laughed, but the sound was hollow.

Castiel stood and approached him. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t want this.” He gestured wildly between them. “I don’t know how it happened, but I know you weren’t into the idea before—”

“Dean,” Castiel interrupted. He stopped right in front of Dean, only inches between them. “I want this. I…I admit that part of me was afraid and ashamed but… I can’t fight this anymore. I can’t.” He gripped Dean’s face. “I want you.”

“Well, that’s good because news flash—you have me,” Dean said with a weak chuckle. Castiel pressed their foreheads together, and Dean breathed in the scent of him. His heart pounded in his chest and he felt strong, suddenly, like he could do anything. Then it hit him.

He was going to _live_.

He was going to make it to his next birthday. He was going to die an old man.

He was _Bonded_. Holy shit.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, and Dean pulled back.

“Uh, what? Why are you apologizing? Doesn’t this feel _awesome_?”

“It does but…I’m sorry for drawing this out. I was just so afraid.”

“Cas, you’re not gonna be the death of me, okay? You’re the exact opposite,” Dean said, practically skipping with giddiness. Castiel must’ve felt it because he smiled. “Dude, we’re _Bonded_. We’re an actual Witch and Familiar now.”

Castiel grinned, but it faded. “Dean, there’s something you need to know about my family. They’re chasing me—”

“Cas,” Dean cut him off. “Can’t we just enjoy this for a second? A few hours ago, I was convinced I was gonna bite it soon after Samhain. And now….” He reeled back. “Oh, you’ll meet my parents! And my brother! And all of their Witches!” Dean couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He’d show his whole family that he wasn’t broken. Not that they’d ever said that to his face, but he knew they were thinking it. He came from two of the most powerful bloodlines possible in the magic community. It was unheard of that he’d ended up like he had.

And now Dean was Bonded with a Witch from the Angelus Coven, which he hadn’t thought possible since he and Sam had both rejected Michael and Lucifer and—

“Wait,” Dean said, a horrible thought occurring to him. “Are Michael and Lucifer gonna be pissed that we Bonded?”

Castiel stiffened. “I’m afraid there’s more to it than that.”

Dean sank heavily onto the couch. “Okay. One thing at a time I guess.” He shot Castiel a weak smile. “We’ll figure this out, yeah?”

They both jumped when there was a loud ringing noise: Dean’s cellphone, which he had so conveniently left in his room before becoming a dog. Dean ran to get it and picked up just before the call went to voicemail.

“Hello?” he said breathlessly.

“Dean! Brother,” Benny said, and the relief was evident in his voice. “Ain’t heard from you in _days_. Ellen’s going off her gourd worried sick about you. What’s going on?”

Dean blew out a breath. “It’s a long story.”

“Mmhm, I’m sure it is. You better get your butt over here at some point and explain it all before Ellen kills one of our patrons. She’s been a bit testy— Naw, I ain’t saying anything about you, Ellen. Yeah, it’s Dean, he’s alive apparently, hey wait—”

“DEAN!” Ellen’s voice came over the line. “Where in the _hell_ have you been, boy? Are you outta your goddamn mind? You can’t just disappear like that! What happened to you?”

“I Bonded. With Cas.” Dean felt a thrill run through him at the words, and smiled at Castiel who appeared in the doorway. Dean flicked on the lights and nodded for Castiel to join him on the edge of the bed.

There was silence for a moment. Then Ellen said, “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

“No, I swear! I feel…damn, Ellen, I feel great.” With Castiel beside him, Dean’s magic thrummed with power, with warmth. It practically tingled in his fingertips, like he could transform into anything in a millisecond. He probably could, and the thought made his face hurt with how hard he was smiling.

 “Alright, well, we’re gonna talk soon, y’hear?” Ellen said, and Dean could feel the happiness in his voice reflected in hers.

“I hear.”

“I’m happy for you, Dean. You deserved it.”

“Thanks, Ellen.”

“I wanna hear about this, too,” came Benny’s voice as he stole back his phone.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. I’ll spill everything. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that, chère.”

“Night, Benny.”

“Night, Dean.”

Dean hung up and lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Castiel joined him a second later. Their left hands found each other’s and entwined their fingers.

“So now what?” Dean asked.

Castiel hummed. “I don’t know. It didn’t feel like this before.”

Dean shifted onto his side so he was facing Castiel, and Castiel mirrored his movement.

“Wait, you’ve been Bonded before? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“It’s not, not really,” Castiel said with a shrug, his expression sad and distant. “His name was Balthazar. He was my friend growing up, and I wanted him to be my Familiar. His form was a raccoon. We were young.” Castiel swallowed. “And we were desperate. _I_ was desperate.”

Castiel sighed. “I found a spell to create a semi-Bond, and we thought we could get away with it.” Castiel lifted his eyes to Dean’s, and Dean ached with Castiel’s heartbreak. “You have to understand, the Angelus Coven is very strict. You can’t Bond unless you’re approved to do so, and after the ritual, you’re stuck with just your Witch or Familiar. You’re barely allowed to interact with the rest of the coven. Mostly, Bonded Witches and their Familiars are sent on errands, alone.” 

“Balthazar and I…we didn’t want to have to separate. Which is why we did what we did. But we went against the council’s wishes, and if you do that…if you do that, you get punished.” Castiel hesitated and whispered, “They broke our Bond.”

Dean could barely breathe around the suffocating sadness he could feel from Castiel. He understood without Castiel having to say it—Balthazar hadn’t survived the break, even though their Bond wasn’t that strong to begin with.

Dean pulled Castiel to him and they clung together. Castiel’s breaths came out as shuddering gasps, though he wasn’t actually crying. Dean felt the pain through their Bond and just held him, until he had an idea.

Castiel’s gasps became laughter when Dean—now as a Pug—snuffled into him and licked any skin he could find.

“Dean, no, stop. That tickles!”

Dean’s tongue hung out of his mouth as he pounced, worming his way around Castiel’s hands to snuggle up close.

“No, your nose is cold!”

Dean yapped playfully, his tail wagging, as he burrowed his face into Castiel’s neck. Castiel squirmed but didn’t fight him off very hard, and soon they were both still with Dean nuzzled up close.

“Thank you, Dean.”

 _Of course_ , Dean thought, testing their Bond.  

“I’m sorry I’m so pathetic.”

_Like I’m not a mess, too, dude. But now we’re in this together, right?_

Castiel stroked along Dean’s spine, and Dean arched into the touch, a happy sound bubbling in his throat.

“You’re very cute as a Pug.”

_Well, yeah. Pugs are adorable as fuck._

Castiel snorted. “And so eloquent, too.”

 _Aw, that’s the spot, right there…_ Dean flipped onto his back so Castiel could rub his belly. Dean’s legs twitched in the air as he emitted pleased grunts. His butt shook and his tail thwapped the bed.

“I’m very glad you’re my Familiar, Dean.”

_The feeling’s mutual._

They stayed that way for a long time, man and dog, Witch and Familiar, until they both decided to get ready for bed. They didn’t necessarily need to sleep, as they’d been passed out for the whole day, but it felt good to be close.

Although Dean’s spare bedroom was free for Castiel’s use, Castiel didn’t even hesitate to join Dean in his bed. They were both in human form now, and deep contentment washed through Dean as they lay together under the covers. He knew that not all Witches and Familiars had a Bond like this, but he was happy he and Castiel did—and the best part was that he didn’t even need to voice what he wanted. Castiel could sense it, could feel it.

They stayed up late talking, discussing anything and everything. Castiel said he might apply for a job in Gabriel’s café to help pay rent, as it was obvious that he had to move in, and that’s when Dean asked why he’d avoided his brother’s help when he first arrived in Sioux Falls.

“Guilt. Shame. And, well, I thought I felt Gabriel in these parts, but like I said, he’s good at hiding. I couldn’t be sure he was here, and I didn’t want to bother him if he was. He’s been away from our coven for a long time. I didn’t want to bring them right to his front door.”

“So your coven _is_ after you.”

“Yes. It’s bad.” Castiel let out a sigh from his side of the bed. It was dark in their room without the lights on, and Dean could only vaguely make out Castiel’s silhouette as he shifted, the Memory Foam absorbing his weight.

“What do you mean, bad?”

“I knew of you and your brother because of Michael and Lucifer. When you and Sam didn’t resonate with them…the coven’s plans kind of went down the drain. Now they’re doing something even worse.” He paused to inhale a bracing breath.

“Dean, there’s a reason you’re seeing a spike in demon activity. My family is trying to summon demons, and then bind them as their Familiars.”

Dean swore he stopped breathing for a second. “What? Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. But whatever they’re doing, it’s opened a portal and more and more are escaping.”

“But the ones here…were they sent after you, or were they just random?”

“I’m not sure. But it’s more than likely that my family is trying to find me, like they’re still trying to find Gabriel.”

“But Gabriel’s been here a while and they haven’t found him. You’re safe if you can get what he has, right?”

“They might already know I’m here. I didn’t get to Gabriel until recently.”

“Shit.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to drag anyone else into this.”

“Cas. Just stop it.” Dean pushed his feelings through the Bond, his joy that they were together, that he didn’t care what kind of crap hit the fan. He reached for Castiel’s hand and found it under the covers.

For some reason, the darkness made the gesture feel even more important, and Dean’s heart fluttered. It didn’t feel like it had when his magic was low. Instead, his heart felt like it was blossoming, intensifying with emotions he couldn’t describe. He had been waiting for Castiel all his life, and now he was here, and Dean? Dean was alive and he was happy.

Was this how the Bond felt for everyone?

Castiel’s breathing hitched, and Dean cringed at how much he’d mentally assaulted the guy with his flood of feelings.

“I feel the same,” Castiel said a moment later. They reached toward each other and Dean fell easily into Castiel’s arms.

Dean had never felt more safe in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pug Dean??? NO TOO CUTE AGGHHH. Haha. Writing this was fun!


	13. Chapter 13

To say the next week was busy was an understatement.

First, Dean and Castiel had to share their story with everyone— _everyone_. Bobby, Ellen, Benny, Aaron… Dean even gave a prefaced version to his parents so they wouldn’t have to go through the whole story yet again, when they arrived for Samhain. Dean hadn’t yet mentioned it to Sam at all, but that’s because Sam was flying in early with Sarah, and Dean was planning on talking with him separately.

Dean figured Sam, of all people, would understand his Bond with Castiel. His ‘Profound Bond,’ as Castiel put it. Apparently, there were stories in lore of Witches and Familiars whose souls were so meant for each other that they Bonded when in contact, with or without talismans and rituals. Dean had never heard of it happening, yet here he was, living proof of it. He wondered if Sam knew anything about Profound Bonds, and could help him figure out just what was going on between him and Castiel.

Because…it seemed different than Bonds Dean had been around before. His mother had Bonded with a woman named Missouri, but they were like sisters. The same kind of sibling relationship happened with Dean’s dad, John, and his Witch. John and Pastor Jim were buddies, nothing more, but they’d also gladly die for each other.

But the way Dean wanted Castiel was different from all that. Like, he wanted _more_ of him, even though they were as closely Bonded as they could be.

Well, not exactly. There was another way to Bond but….

Dean cut off those thoughts. He hadn’t had any action since Aaron, and he already felt like enough of a douche that he didn’t want to start doing it with Castiel right away. Not that he could imagine it _wouldn’t_ work for them, since they could sense feelings through their Bond, but Dean didn’t want to chance it.

Still, the thoughts lingered. It was in the way Castiel smiled and his eyes crinkled, the way he helped clean Dean’s apartment in preparation for company, and cooked, and hummed, and the way he was so unsure of everything yet put his full heart into it.

And while the magical community knew of Dean’s new status, Charlie was another thing entirely. Dean found it hilarious that she and Castiel had met under such ridiculous circumstances.

The first time he and Charlie saw each other again was Gabriel’s café.

Castiel had gotten a job working with his brother, which Gabriel was happy about. According to him, he had never had staff before—apparently there were no good Witches available—and now that Castiel was there and fully Bound, it wouldn’t be an issue to have him step behind the counter and help create all of Gabriel’s confections. It turned out that Castiel was a natural baker, and Dean remembered when Castiel had prepared for him dinner not too long ago, back when Dean first revealed one of his Familiar forms.

How odd to think how far they’d come in such a short amount of time, and now Dean wanted to get in the guy’s pants. Which was definitely weird, but not altogether sudden, though he didn’t want Castiel to know yet. He didn’t think the guy would appreciate the blast of horniness Dean shot his way, so he tried to conceal his feelings from the Bond. It wasn’t easy, but so far he’d been successful.

In any case, Dean was meeting Charlie for their usual breakfast date. And if he could also check up on his Witch at the same time, that was just a bonus, right?

Unfortunately, Castiel was adorable in his cute green apron, and he could sense Dean’s thoughts, since he blushed from behind the counter. He’d only been there a few days, but Gabriel had deemed him ready to man the front without supervision.

Dean approached the counter and leaned against it, still smirking at his Witch’s flushed expression. Luckily, they were the only ones in the café at the moment.

“Sorry,” Dean said, as he let Castiel get to work.

“It’s fine,” Castiel said as he wiped his hands on his apron. “What can I get for you?”

Dean was just about to send his order telepathically when the bell above the door jingled and Charlie entered.

Dean coughed. “Uh, right. A medium coffee, black, and…whatever pastry you want to throw in. Surprise me.” He winked. “And uh, it’s for here.”

Castiel nodded and got started on his order.

Charlie joined Dean at the counter, and then gasped. “Oh my god! Castiel? Since when do you work here?”

“I’ve been here a little less than a week.”

“Oh wow. So you’re brand new.” She looked at Dean and raised an eyebrow, curious.

Dean cleared his throat. Might as well bite the bullet. “Yeah, so…me and Cas? We’re together now.” He smiled and didn’t have to fake it.

Charlie’s eyes widened. “What? Oh!” She glanced back and forth between them, obviously noticing their dopey grins. She clapped her hands. “That’s so great! I’m so glad you guys made up.”

“Yeah. And we live together,” Dean said. It was better to rip off the Band-Aid as fast as possible.

Charlie staggered back. “Um. Whoa. Big step. Sure that wasn’t too fast…?” She trailed off and waved her hands. “Never mind. It’s none of my business, right? As long as you’re both happy.” She paused, and a concerned expression took over her face. “Oh, so how’s Mr. Fluffles doing?”

Castiel nearly upended Dean’s coffee, but managed to only spill a tiny bit, which he mopped up with a towel.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, as he set Dean’s cup on the counter. “Um. Mr. Fluffles is feeling much better.”

_Damn right he is_ , Dean said telepathically.

Castiel shot him a look. _Help me. I told you I’m bad at lying._

Dean adopted a sad smile. “Unfortunately, Cas had to give Mr. Fluffles up. Because my place is just too small for a dog plus the both of us. And I’m not really a dog person.” _Ha._

“You gave him up?” Charlie repeated.

_Dean_ , Castiel thought sharply, but he nodded, contrite. “Yes. I was very sad. But…he’s in good hands now.”

“Yeah, Cas’s sister took him,” Dean added.

_I don’t have a sister._

_You wanted my help lying, so here I am. Shut up, would you? I got this._

 “She’s always wanted a dog, and she didn’t mind caring for him,” Dean said. “He’ll be happy with her.”

Charlie sagged with relief. “Thank goodness. I can’t believe that happened. Obviously Cas told you.” She huffed out a laugh. “I’m surprised you don’t think I’m evil. I hit a _dog_.”

Dean shrugged. “It’s alright. It happens.”

“And I’m sure Mr. Fluffles being in the road didn’t help,” Castiel said.

_Oi, watch it_ , Dean said in his mind.

_You’re the one who should “watch it.”_

_Cas, you don’t need to put air quotes on everything, you know._

_How did you know I used air quotes? I’m not even using my hands._

_I can just tell. Oh shit, we’ve been quiet too long._

Charlie was staring at them, her brows furrowed.

“Shall we go get our table?” Dean said quickly. “Come on.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her over to their usual spot.

“That was so weird,” Charlie said as she sat down. “It was like you were having a conversation in your heads. I swear, like the Sith or something.”

Dean laughed, and the sound was tinny and awful, but Charlie bought it, and that’s all that mattered. “Yeah, imagine that. Hey, wait, the Sith? Not the Jedi?”

“Come on. Palpatine _and_ Darth Vader were telepaths. Not in the movies, but you know.”

“Right, yeah.”

They were interrupted when Castiel appeared with a freshly baked blueberry muffin on a plate. He placed it in front of Dean.

“How’d you know I wanted a blueberry muffin?” Dean said with a smirk.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I had a feeling.”

“Aw, you two are so cute,” Charlie said, once Castiel had left to go help another patron. She leaned forward. “Now, get ready to tell me the whole story because I want to hear everything. From the _beginning_.” She pushed back from the table. “But first I need some food. Be right back!”

_Oh man, she’s going to make me talk for hours_ , Dean lamented, but all he got from Castiel was a hasty reply: _I’m with a customer. Stop bothering me._

Dean sighed. _Fine. Sorry. Guess I’ll see you at home._

_Yes. See you then._

_Okay. Lo—_ Dean cut himself off. Holy shit, where had that come from? He couldn’t love someone he hardly knew, even if he _was_ in the guy’s head. It was way too soon.

But was it also true? Did this have something to do with their ‘Profound Bond’?

He was so totally screwed.

“You look like you’re having a moment of crisis,” Charlie said, when she reappeared with hot tea and a scone.

“It’s nothing,” Dean said.

Charlie peered at him, but let it go. “Alright. Well. Spill.”

So Dean did. An embellished version of course, for her delicate human ears, but she lapped it up.

Later that night, after his shift at The Roadhouse, Dean headed to his bedroom where Castiel was already sleeping, and curled into his Witch’s body. He willed his thoughts to leave him alone as he concentrated on the magic that flowed between them. He knew he’d be fully recharged soon, as would Castiel, who sighed sleepily and drew him closer.

It felt good, more than good, and he couldn’t help but wonder if other Witch and Familiar pairs recharged like this. Did they need to touch each other, or just be in close proximity?

Just what was going on between Dean and his Witch?


	14. Chapter 14

Samhain was a few days away, and Dean was nervous about how his parents and their Witches would react to Castiel, especially since they didn’t know the extent of his backstory and that the Angelus Coven was still after him.

Luckily, there had been no demon activity since the last spike, so Dean sighed in relief. The Angelus Coven already had a reason to hate the Winchester clan without knowing of his and Castiel’s Bond. They didn’t need more motivation to send their evil servants into Sioux Falls.

But when he’d mentioned the decline in activity to Castiel, his Witch had clenched his jaw.

“They’re probably gearing up for a big ritual on Samhain, so they’re not expending their efforts,” Castiel said.

“So you think something big’s coming?”

“I don’t know. But Michael and Lucifer working together is never a good thing.”

“You’d rather your coven was in a civil war?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, and they’d met each other’s eyes across the table. “They’re less dangerous that way, focused inward instead of outward. Now they’ll bring the rest of the world down with them, and hurt a lot of innocent people.”

Which was ominous as hell, but what could they do? Castiel and Gabriel were cut off from their old coven, and they had no way of knowing what was going to happen.

At least Dean and Castiel were on the same side. Dean didn’t even need to ask where Castiel stood; he knew, intrinsically, that they were both willing to die if it meant saving innocent lives. Though they had to factor in their Bond now. If one of them died, so would the other.

But it was a risk they had to take.

Two days before Samhain, Dean was in the kitchen making breakfast, when there was a knock on his door. He opened it to reveal Sam and Sarah, both in jeans and flannel. Sam immediately engulfed him in a hug as Sarah brushed past them both into the kitchen. Dean closed the door, and then stood to face his brother and his brother’s Witch.

They looked tired, no doubt weary from traveling, but for some reason, Dean sensed something off about the way they stood apart. But before he could ask, he was distracted by twin gasps.

“Holy shit. You’re Bound!” Sam said, and his mouth dropped open.

“What the hell happened?” Sarah demanded.

“Hey, this is a good thing,” Dean reminded them. “I’m not dying anymore, right?”

“But who…how…what?” Sarah started.

“ _I_ should be asking the questions here,” Dean said. “I was supposed to pick you up _tonight_ at the airport. What’re you doing here now?”

“Sarah wanted to get here early,” Sam said in an irritated tone.

Dean eyed the both of them. “What’s going on with you two?”

Suddenly, Castiel leapt out of the bedroom, his eyes blazing and his hands raised as if he were going to cast a spell.

“Whoa whoa, hey!” Dean said as he jumped in front of his Witch. “It’s just Sam and Sarah. Remember? I told you about them?”

Castiel’s menacing waves dissipated as he nodded, chagrinned. “Oh. Sorry,” he said to Dean, and then to their guests.

“Uh. Yeah. This is Cas, my Witch. Cas, this is my brother Sam and his Witch Sarah.”

“I do apologize. I’m not a morning person,” Castiel said, and though Sarah’s gaze was still wary, she smiled and shook his hand.

“No problem. I get that. And we _are_ strangers.”

“Until now,” Dean said.

“Right. Until now.”

Sam shook his head, and his long hair flopped about his face. “Holy shit, Dean. You better tell us what’s going on, like, right now.”

So he told them the story with help from Castiel, as Dean was still in the middle of making breakfast. He added more eggs and toast to accommodate their visitors, all while fielding questions about how Dean and Castiel had found each other and then Bonded. This they discussed over breakfast, and they remained at the table even after they finished.

“A Profound Bond?” Sarah said, when Castiel brought it up. “Wow. Those are super rare. There are a few mentions of Profound Bonds in the texts I’m studying, and those Witch/Familiar pairs were seen as divine. People used to worship them.”

“Oh my god, don’t give Dean any ideas,” Sam said. He and Sarah exchanged a smile before it was like they forgot they had to be mad at each other, as they resumed stoic expressions. Coldness wafted between them.

Dean was discomfited. Sam and Sarah had been close all their lives, having grown up together, so what had come between them? He slammed a hand down on the table and made them all jump.

“Okay, that’s it. What happened with you two? Why are you giving each other the cold shoulder? Is there some reason why you decided to take an earlier flight?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you the reason,” Sam said. He glared at Sarah and then looked back at Dean. “I wanted to get in earlier so I could see you. Yeah, you. Another Familiar who understands the concept of mates.”

Dean blinked. “Mates? Why are you bringing that up?” His eyes widened at the expression on Sam’s face. “Sammy, you telling me you found your mate?”

He dropped his head. “Yeah. I did. Her name’s Jess.”

“I’m sorry, but what are mates?” Castiel cut in, and Sarah huffed.

“See? Thank you! I’m not the only one.”

“It’s a Familiar thing,” Dean said. “A way for us to reproduce, I guess. They’re called mates, and they’re bonds between Familiars. But not that kind of Bond. It’s more like a marriage. Like our parents.”

“Exactly what I’ve been saying all along,” Sam said.

“But if it’s so important, why don’t Witches know about it?” Sarah demanded.

“Because it’s sort of a private thing,” Dean said. “It’s hard to explain. Witches didn’t have mates. They could marry a regular human and still produce magical children. Not so much for Familiars.”

“I just don’t get how it’s ‘private’ when it directly impacts _me_ , as Sam’s Witch. Shouldn’t I have a say?”

“You don’t control me,” Sam cut in. “I can have my own life, too.”

“A life with Jess, you mean.”

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to be in it anymore. You’re my Witch.”

“Hey, whoa, let’s all calm down,” Dean said. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Man, it’s way too early for this, and you both are obviously tired.”

“Don’t give us that crap,” Sam said. “I thought you’d get it.”

“I do! But I also get that it can hard for Witches to adjust. You remember what Mom and Dad said? Their Witches were like, opposites. I mean, Missouri’s a psychic, and Pastor Jim’s religious. Those things don’t always mesh, and they didn’t like each other when Mom and Dad first met. They fought all the time, but figured out how to make it work. Now they’re good friends.”

“That’s what I told her,” Sam said, jabbing a finger at Sarah. “But it’s not Jess’s Witch she has a problem with. No, she loves Anna. She has problem with _me_.”

“Well yeah, because you slept with Jess and now she’s pregnant!”

In the wake of that bomb, there was silence and stillness. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. Since when had he become a relationship counselor for his brother?

His brother, who was going to be a dad. Meaning that _he_ was going to be an uncle.

Holy shit.

“Wow, Sammy. Wow,” was all he could say, after a long moment.

Sam slumped. “I said I was sorry. But I don’t regret it. I love her.”

“I get it,” Sarah said. “But we’re in college. How are we supposed to raise a baby on top of everything?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“But this baby is a _Familiar_. It could be a dog or a monkey, and that’s going to be _crazy_.”

“Monkey? Jess is a primate designation?”

“Yeah.” Sam’s eyes lit up, fond. “Her favorite form is a golden lion tamarin. She’s beautiful.”

“Huh.” Dean glanced over at Castiel, who had absorbed the whole story with his customary intensity. “What do you think, Cas?”

“Oh _no_ ,” Sarah said, before Castiel could answer.

“What?” Dean asked.

“We stole your thunder. You’re Bonded. That’s big news, _awesome_ news. And here we are, blabbing about our problems.”

“Well, I’ve been blabbing about being Unbound forever. And hey, Sam’s having a kid. That’s big news, too. Both things are good, right?” He huffed. “Though I don’t envy you telling Mom and Dad.”

“It should be easier, though,” Sarah said. “Since Jess and Anna will be there, too.”

“Jess and her Witch are coming?”

“Yup. A big welcome to the family on Samhain.”

Dean scoffed at that and smirked at Castiel. “And I thought _our_ lives were complicated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh I kept meaning to update this and then I had to post my DCBB and I got sick and busy with school and I haven't written new stuff for this in a while and --
> 
> Phew. I'm okay. I can do this. Sorry for such a short chapter, but there's plenty more to come!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a fun chapter for y'all!

As it turned out, Dean’s family was more than happy for both pieces of good news—Dean’s Bond, and Sam’s baby—though their joy was intermingled with shock.

They’d all met up at Bobby’s, whose house was big enough to host them all.

Jo and Ash were back from their adventures to celebrate the holiday, and with the whole Winchester clan—now including Castiel, plus Jess and Anna—the place was packed. (Gabriel had also been invited, but had declined).

Despite the crowd, Dean made sure he got to meet his brother’s baby mama, and he had to admit, Sam had good taste. Jess was awesome. She was an art student, and Dean could see how her interests overlapped with Sarah’s. He hoped they’d get over their drama so they could become friends.

Jess’s Witch, Anna, was also a student, though studying journalism. Her goal was to become a reporter and publish a newspaper intended to keep the supernatural community up to date. The clans and covens were so widespread that they didn’t interact much, and though they used some technology, Anna believed she could unite them in a way that would benefit them all.

Dean couldn’t help but agree that having a unified front would be better, especially if the demon threat escalated.

That was the one downer about their meeting. The demon activity had been sparse where his parents lived, which wasn’t an issue. But on top of that, there was also minimal action from their normal supernatural baddies, as if the presence of demons, even elsewhere, had scared them off.

Which was a sobering thought.

Just what was the Angelus Coven planning? Castiel told them everything he knew, and even then, Dean had to step in to stop his dad from fully interrogating him.

Despite the looming threat though, they all decided by mutual agreement to push these dark thoughts aside to focus on celebrating Dean and Castiel, and Sam and Jess’s new baby.

First, they conducted their gratitude ceremony and offered blessings to their ancestors and those who’d passed on before them. They then lit candles and gathered in a circle to chant, hands clasped. Dean mentally promised Castiel that he’d be better prepared next year, since Dean had forgotten to teach him their family’s unique traditions.

Then it was time for food. The feast was endless, cooked by Ellen, Mary, and a protesting Jo. There were turnips, corn, squash, potatoes, herbed rolls: all the glorious, fresh tastes of autumn, plus a roasted turkey. (Familiars didn’t have an aversion to eating normal animals, even if they were forms they could take themselves.) Though Dean loved pie, his mother’s fairy spice cakes were nothing to laugh at, especially when he could chase a bite with Bobby’s infamous ale. Not to mention the mead, or the mulled wine that was his dad’s specialty, on top of all the other loaves and cakes and ciders that came as dessert.

The atmosphere in Bobby’s house was warm and full of laughter. Dean soaked it all in, and felt doubly buzzed by Castiel’s contentment at his side. It was clear from a few moments of pleasant surprise that filtered through their Bond that his Witch had never had a celebration like this before. Dean was happy to share it with him, and even happier to realize they’d share many more of these.

What a stark contrast to last year, when Dean had been quiet and distant, trying to memorize how it all felt, as he wasn’t sure he’d live long enough to see the next one.  

His mother appeared to have a similar thought, as she cornered Dean near the case of ale after dessert. She tugged him into a hug.

“I’m so, so happy for you,” she said, and Dean just held onto her as they started to sway together. “I thought you’d given up and, gods, Dean, I was so worried. I was so worried.” She pulled back, and her eyes shone with joyous tears. “But now look at you. So healthy. So handsome.”

Dean sniffled. “Thanks, Mom.” He hesitated, and his eyes caught Missouri’s over his mother’s shoulder. The psychic gave him a tiny, encouraging nod, so Dean plowed forward. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay,” Mary said. She must’ve sensed his desire to speak privately, because she led Dean into the walk-in pantry and closed the door. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Um. So. Well, Cas and I have a Profound Bond or whatever, right?”

“Right.”

“And. I think. I….”

“Take a deep breath,” Mary said as she squeezed his arm.

Dean nodded and closed his eyes. “Okay. Look, so. Mom, I really like him. Like, I _like_ like him. And that’s not normal, right?”

At his mother’s silence, he opened his eyes.

Mary wore a thoughtful expression. “You’re saying you’re attracted to him? Romantically?”

Dean cringed at her word choice, but he nodded. “Yeah. But that’s not what should happen. That’s not how Bonds are supposed to work.”

Mary shook her head slowly. “That’s not necessarily true. It’s rare for Witches and Familiars to have that kind of relationship, but it’s not unheard of. And you and Cas have a Profound Bond, which I don’t know much about, to be honest. Perhaps it’s different for you.”

“But isn’t it wrong?”

“Wrong?” Mary frowned, this time in admonishment. “Dean. Every Bond is different, and you and Cas obviously have something special. You have a _Profound_ Bond. It’s so strong that you Bonded while _asleep_. That has to mean something. And if it feels right, you should go for it.”

“You think so?” Dean hated how small and pathetic his voice sounded.  

Mary reached for his hands and clasped them tight. “Whatever happens, happens. Don’t try to force anything. Just see where it takes you. And if he feels the same way about you, then what could be wrong about it?”

They dropped their hands, and Dean sniffled again. “Thanks, Mom.”

She patted his shoulder, smiling brightly. “Now, we need to go flying. I’ve missed my flying partner.”

Dean’s grin stretched wide. “How about right now?”

Mary poked open the pantry door and surveyed the room. “We’ll have to be small, but it’s doable.” A wicked glint appeared in her eyes, and in the next blink, she had transformed into a tiny sparrow. She alit upon one of the shelves and chirped impatiently at him.

“Alright, alright. Give me a second. I’m still getting used to this again.” Dean closed his eyes and gathered his magic. He had to take a step back at the rush of power that roared to the forefront, the likes of which he hadn’t felt in years, no, _decades_. It was so strong, and it sang so loud, that tears sprang unbidden, to Dean’s eyes.

He felt so _alive_.

In a second, his body compressed until he was a black-capped chickadee.

Mary chirped again, and then zoomed out of the pantry through the gap in the door. Dean spread his wings and chased after her.

They cartwheeled through the air, veering around hanging lights and doorjambs, and Dean couldn’t stop the joyous song that burst from his beak. His mother answered with her own cry, and they swooped and dove at each other until the whole room was observing their antics.

Castiel, in particular, had a big smile on his face, and Dean angled himself so that he could land on his Witch’s shoulder. His claws dug into the material of Castiel’s shirt, and Dean pressed close, nuzzling the man’s stubble.

Castiel laughed. “Having fun are you?” His face loomed in Dean’s vision, but his eyes sparkled with delight and…something else.

Was it possible Dean’s feelings were mutual? For a second, Dean couldn’t breathe, but then he hopped onto Castiel’s head and out of sight. He roosted in Castiel’s hair, kicking up strands and fluffing others down. He clamped down when Castiel shifted forward.

“Hey! You better not poop on my head.”

The whole room laughed at his indignation, and Dean just twittered softly as he refused to budge.

“Guess that means you’re all ready for the Run,” Bobby said at last. Rufus, in his boar form, straightened beside him.

“The Run?” Castiel asked.

“The Run of the Familiars,” Sam said. “It’s a family tradition. We just go outside, transform, and well…run until we can’t anymore.”

“Oh, I see.”

“It’s more fun than it sounds. Come on, everyone!” Sam raised his fist, and they all bounded outside after him. Castiel was among them, and a chilly night breeze ruffled Dean’s feathers as he clung to his Witch’s head. The sun was below the horizon, but it was still light enough to see.

The Familiars and their Witches gathered in pairs, and then one by one, the Familiars transformed.

Sam became a Jack Russell Terrier; Jess a Patas Monkey; John a Doberman Pinscher; Rufus a bearded pig; Ash a Capybara. Mary changed to a Peregrine Falcon, and Dean flitted down to the ground and shifted to a Greyhound.

      

They lined up at the edge of Bobby’s property, and Pastor Jim, John’s Witch, stood before them. He intoned their usual Samhain rite, a blessing on the miracle of life: the blood in their veins, the heart in their chests, the breath in their lungs, the strength in their muscles. He offered thanks and praise, and Dean tensed along with the others when Jim raised his arm.

“And now,” he boomed. “We run out to meet the night!” He swept his arm, and they were off on a mad sprint.

The Run had started as only that, a simple run, a way for the Familiars to embrace their animal forms in harmony with others. But over time, it’d become something of a competition, a way to show off and flaunt who was best.

Dean hadn’t participated for years, and he’d hated being sidelined.

But now?

Now he wasn’t only participating—he was going to _win_.

Dean’s paws flew over the cold ground and flung loose dirt behind him. He darted to the head of the pack, leaving Jess and Ash far behind him. Rufus was surprisingly quick for a pig, but Dean left him in his dust.

He and Sam were up front. John was close, but still lagging behind, and by the screeching above, Mary must’ve been right on top of them.

Sam was small and scrappy, but Dean’s body was built for speed. He could feel how strong his muscles were, how they were primed to run. He let out a victorious bark, and joy filtered in through his Bond from Castiel, who was cheering him on.

It was just enough to push him ahead. They passed the tree that marked the edge of the property with Dean winning by over a nose.

Sam tackled him, and they wrestled on the ground, snarling playfully. They paused to pant as the rest of the Familiars jogged over the imaginary finish line. Sam abandoned Dean to nuzzle against Jess, who climbed onto his back with a hoot.

Ash transformed back into his scraggly human self, complete with a mullet. “Holy shit,” he said, breathless, as he sprawled on the ground. “You guys are fast.”

Dean’s tongue lolled from his mouth as he woofed an affirmative. He did a little dance to show them all who’d won, and they laughed.

“That was a tough one,” Mary said, as she returned to her human form. She bent down to scratch John on the ears. He grunted in pleasure. “I could barely keep up. I wonder if we should leave it for the kids next year.”

John shifted back, and Mary yelped as he pulled her down onto his lap. “Are you kidding? There’s no way I’m giving this up. I may be old, but I’m not _that_ old.”

“Damn straight,” Rufus echoed, now in his human form as well. “Feels good to stretch the legs every now and then.”

The rest of them reverted back to human, and Dean smiled to see their Witches racing down to meet them.

“You were incredible,” Castiel said, and Dean couldn’t stop himself from pulling his Witch into an embrace. He was so high on life that he could’ve kissed Castiel right then and there, but he tamped down on the impulse. It was too soon.

But then he sensed Castiel’s similar desire, and he pulled back to stare at him, his eyes wide.

 _You think…you think we could…?_ Dean thought, anxious.

Castiel nodded with a shy grin. _Someday. Someday soon, yes._ He paused, and then added, _I feel it, too._

_You do?_

Castiel smiled. _Yes, Dean. I do._

_I do? Whoa Cas, we’re not getting married here._

_No. Not yet._

Dean reared back. _Wait, what?_

Castiel just chuckled.

Jo broke them out of their trance with a mockingly annoyed huff. “Stop with your mental flirting, god. We’re heading to the bonfire.” She jerked her thumb, and they tromped toward another section of the field, where the Witches had gathered wood.

On the way, Dean reached out to shove Jo for her comment, though it was more automatic than anything. It felt good to be teased. Maybe the others _would_ be open to his and Castiel’s special kind of relationship, if and when the time came.

The stars were just appearing by the time they arrived at the fire pit. The wood was stacked high, and Dean let Castiel gather with the other Witches as they gripped hands and chanted a spell to ignite it. Instantly, the wood caught and burned bright. Smoke puffed into the air, only briefly obscuring the stars.  

Dean joined Castiel near the fire, and admired the way the flames cast shadows on his Witch’s face.

“So,” Dean said at last. “What’d you think of the Winchester’s brand of Samhain?”

Castiel’s eyes shone. “Oh, it was wonderful. I loved it. I’m so….” He choked up, but Dean knew what he’d intended to say.

“I’m really glad, too, Cas. This year was awesome.”

Definitely the best Samhain yet, though who knew what the future would bring? Next year, Sam’s kid would be running around. What could get better than that?

Things were finally starting to look up for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Samhain! And early Halloween, I guess! :)
> 
> Also, FINALLY I'm going to write more of this tonight! I'm so excited! I've missed this story. Darn schoolwork!


	16. Chapter 16

Reality came crashing back a week after Samhain.

Dean and Castiel were in a secluded area of the town park, practicing their abilities while neither of them had to work.

Dean was testing as many dog forms as possible, and challenged himself to switching from canine to bird as fast as he could.

Meanwhile, Castiel was working on basic spells. With fall in full swing, there were plenty of leaves on the ground, and Castiel used them to his advantage. He’d scoop one up, recite words, and then something would happen. He froze one leaf in a block of ice. He burnt another to crisp. He exploded yet another one, and then crafted twenty copies of one of the leaves to use as an illusion.

“Can you tell which is the original?” Castiel asked.

Dean, as a Cocker Spaniel, sniffed the leaves Castiel laid on the ground before him. The smell of magical residue was strong, but none of them stood out from the other.

_No idea_ , Dean thought.

Castiel smiled, obviously pleased. “It’s this one,” he said, picking up the fourth one from the right. He shook his head as he twirled the leaf by its stem. “Amazing. I used to perform these tricks as a child, but then I stopped being able to. For obvious reasons.”

 _I know what you mean_ , Dean thought. _I was never able to transform so fast between species before. Now, though?_ From a Cocker Spaniel, Dean melded flawlessly into a Snowy Owl. _Now, it’s easy. Like breathing._ He puffed up his feathers to ward off the chill, and Castiel hiked up his scarf, which Mary had given him.

“Exactly,” he said, after a moment. “I never realized that this is what it’d feel like, being properly, fully Bound. It’s quite remarkable.”

They were both interrupted by the muted blaring of guitars. They looked at each other, and then circled around to find the source of the noise.

 _Oh wait. Duh._ Dean transformed back into his human self, and pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He caught it just before it stopped ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Dean?”

Dean’s heart sank. “Victor?”

Castiel shot him a concerned look.

“Yeah.” The policeman blew out a breath. “Alright, so I got something here I thought you’d want to know about.”

“Okay. Hit me.”

“We’ve got a missing girl on our hands.” He paused. “One Charlie Bradbury.” At Dean’s intake of breath, he added, “That’s your friend, right? The one who drives you here sometimes? Red hair, VW Bug?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” Dean said, but he could barely process it. His insides were frozen.

When had he last talked to Charlie? Oh god, he’d been so caught up in his magic that he hadn’t thought about her at all.

He growled. “Son of a _bitch_. What happened? What do you know?”

“Her co-worker called in to say that Ms. Bradbury hadn’t shown up to work, and no one had heard from her. We found her car parked on the edge of town, but it was empty.”

“So you think something took her? Was it human or supernatural?”

“I’m assuming human, but that’s all I _can_ assume. You’re the one with the good sniffer, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m on it. _We_ ’re on it,” he amended as Castiel came into view.

“We?”

“Oh, yeah. So I found my Witch. I’m Bonded now.”

“Congratulations?” Victor said, with a hint of sarcasm.

“Yeah, it’s a good thing. I’m a lot stronger now. We’ll find her.”

“Here, I’ll text you her last known whereabouts. You let me know when you get anything,” Victor said.

“Thanks, Vic. Will do. And really, thank you.” Dean hung up the phone. He was too upset for words, so he projected the conversation to Castiel through their Bond.

Castiel’s brows furrowed as he absorbed the information. “I can do a tracer spell.”

“And I can follow her scent.” Dean’s phone buzzed with the address where Charlie was last seen. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The address Victor provided brought Dean and Castiel to an antiques store near the end of the main drag. It was an older place, but with an eye-catching window display—a medieval suit of armor surrounded by swords and scabbards.

The plan they had crafted on the drive over was for Dean to get a whiff of Charlie while he was in dog form, and for Castiel to put a tracing spell on something she had last touched.

Unfortunately, Charlie’s car was in police custody, so Dean hoped that she’d spent a long time in the store. He couldn’t pick up her scent from outside, at least not until he knew what he was looking for, because there were too many conflicting smells on the streets. He just needed a place to start.

Of course, it had already been more than two days, so her scent would be faint. Dean couldn’t imagine wasting time by running back to Charlie’s apartment for something stronger, though. This was where she’d been taken. They had to begin here.

Dean and Castiel approached the store.

Castiel strode in, all false confidence and authority despite his casual clothes, while Dean, on his heels, crouched low to the ground in the form of a Basset Hound.

They split up when Castiel veered toward the counter and Dean headed deeper into the store, hoping to go unnoticed by the shopkeeper. Luckily, they were the only patrons at the moment, so at least Dean would go undetected for a little while.

Dean kept his nose to the ground as he navigated through the winding shop, and had to resist sneezing several times, since the place was full of mildew and dust. Dean sniffed around and sorted through the smells, but none stood out as Charlie’s.

Voices picked up as the old woman at the desk chatted with Castiel.

 _How are you doing up there?_ Dean thought. _I’m not getting much of anything on the ground._

It took a solid minute before Castiel could reply. _Greta says Charlie was here to buy one of the swords from the display. She tested them all before setting one aside to pick up later. Greta’s getting it from the back now._

_Awesome. Let me know if that works or not. I’ll check out the display._

Dean snuffled around to the front, but kept low. Unfortunately, the window display was in clear view of the main counter, so Dean implored Castiel to keep Greta occupied.

Dean hopped up onto the display platform and aimed his nose at the nearest scabbard.

Finally, he registered something familiar. He resisted the urge to throw back his head and howl in triumph.

_I’ve got it! I smell her here. She must’ve been one of the last people to touch these things. Her smell’s all over them._

_I can sense her through this sword as well. Can you distract Greta so I can put a tracer spell on it?_

_Distraction coming right up._ Dean surrendered to his dog instincts and began to bay, loudly.

There was a clatter from the counter. “What on earth? Is there a dog in here? Excuse me, sir.” Greta advanced on where Dean sat, howling. She grabbed a broom and swiped at him. “Go on, git! Dogs don’t belong in here!”

Dean jumped off the platform, careful not to knock anything over. Greta propped open the door with her hip, and Dean allowed her to shoo him onto the sidewalk. He sat and stared at her woefully.

“No collar on you, huh?” she thought aloud. “You got yourself an owner?”

“He’s mine,” Castiel said, as he joined Dean outside. “I’m so sorry. He must’ve followed me in. I thought I locked him in the car.”

Greta raised an eyebrow, but Castiel plowed on before she could say anything.

“Thank you for your help with our investigation. I think we have a good place to go from here.”

Greta’s face softened. “You do? Well, good. I hope you find her. She’s an awfully sweet girl.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. Come on, Snookipoo.”

Castiel nudged Dean with his foot, and they trotted down the sidewalk a ways. It was only when the shop door closed and Greta disappeared back inside that they darted into an alley.

_Snookipoo? I’m gonna pee on your bed._

“It’s your bed, too, might I remind you,” Castiel said. He closed his eyes. “So you got her scent. Is it leading you this way as well?”

Dean put his nose to the ground. _Ugh. Yeah. And there’s something else here, too. Something old and…wait. I know this scent. Shit, Cas, it’s a djinn._

“Are you sure?”

_I can smell a hint of the poison they use, plus some mad BO. Where’s your tracer pointing you?_

“Deeper down this alley. This way,” Castiel said, and he launched forward with Dean close behind.

The alleyways in this section of town twisted like a labyrinth, and if it weren’t for Castiel’s spell and Dean’s nose, they would’ve lost Charlie’s trail almost immediately.

As it were, they arrived at an old factory, smack on the edge of civilization. The foundation of the building still held, but the windows were smashed and broken. Weeds crawled through the cracks, and the lot leading up to the factory was strewn with garbage.

Dean and Castiel stalked forward, wary.

“The spell’s ringing very loud,” Castiel said. “I’m going to end it. She must be here.”

Dean transformed back into his human form. “Alright, so how do we do this?”

“I have a silver blade.” Castiel pulled a small pin from his pocket. He held it on his palm, and when he whispered words, it lengthened and became a conical knife.

Dean stepped back, his eyes wide. “Whoa, holy crap. Where’d that come from?”

“A gift from Gabriel. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it. I only use it when absolutely necessary.”

“Dude. That’s bad ass.”

Castiel smirked. “I had to protect myself somehow, with my magic fading.”

“Yeah, well, now it’s just _extra_ bad ass. Though I don’t suppose it’s been dipped in lamb’s blood?”

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Okay. So if we run into the djinn, we just bash its brains in the best we can?”

Castiel grimaced. “I suppose. Do you have any weapons on you?”

“Just my teeth,” Dean said with a wicked grin. “My German Shepherd’s anxious for some action, if you get my drift.”

“Just be careful,” Castiel said as he gripped Dean’s arm.

“I will.”

Together, they ducked inside the building through a slanted doorway. Rotting boards from the second floor had collapsed across the main hallway, so they had to maneuver through the maze. The place was an absolute mess, filled with dirt and trash. Some kids had also found it, as graffiti covered a large section of the few walls that still stood inside.

Dean braced himself as he shifted into a German Shepherd. The smells were instant and overwhelming, but he focused on Charlie’s.

_She’s close. Come on!_ Dean’s heart pounded as he leapt forward, now agile and graceful as he navigated the factory ruins. He left Castiel behind, but barked when he stumbled into a room where Charlie was trussed up to a ceiling beam by ropes attached to her wrists. Panic pulsed through him.

She was pale. So pale, her skin appeared bruised. Her feet dangled from the ground, and her head hung limply. A needle sprouted from her arm and fed blood into a medical bag hanging on an IV pole.

Dean returned to his human form so he wouldn’t smell how very near death she was.

He was just removing the needle when Castiel appeared behind him, and he used his knife to cut her down. Dean cradled Charlie in his arms as he lowered her to the floor. He slapped lightly at her face. “Charlie? Come on, Charlie. Wake up. It’s me, it’s Dean. Come on!” Dean glanced up at Castiel, frantic. “She’s not waking up.”

“We should get her to a hospital.”

“She won’t last that long, not if she doesn’t wake up.” Dean couldn’t keep the fear from his voice. Oh god. _Charlie_. His heart hurt, it was pounding so hard. “Shit, shit. What do we do? Charlie, come on! Open your eyes!”

“Let me enter her dream,” Castiel said with a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He sat and folded his legs as if he were going to meditate.

“But she’s under the djinn’s influence. Can you still dreamwalk when they’re like that?”

“I can try.” Castiel closed his hands and rested his hands on his knees.

“Wait, take me with you. I can help you wake her up.”

Castiel cracked open his eyes. “No, Dean. We don’t know where the djinn is. I need you to stay here and protect us in case it returns.”

“Cas….” Dean trailed off, unsure what he was going to say, but Castiel gave him a small, determined smile.

“I will save her, Dean. Trust me.” He closed his eyes, breathed deeply for a moment, and then his body slumped forward. Dean felt a momentary pull as he was separated from his Witch’s consciousness, and then Dean’s heartbeat ratcheted in further panic.

Shit, _shit_. They should’ve thought to test Castiel’s ability now that they were Bonded. How stupid could they be? At least Dean could still sense a thin tendril of his Witch’s spirit, tethered by a thread to Castiel’s body. Man, dreamwalking was no joke. Dean had no idea that it was Castiel’s _soul_ that went for a joyride. And Castiel’s coven hadn’t thought he was that powerful. Who were they kidding? Castiel was seriously _bad ass_.

Minutes ticked by. The longer Dean went without Castiel’s connection, the more anxious he got. It didn’t help that Charlie sagged even more into his arms, as if she were giving up. Dean _really_ hoped that wasn’t the case, and was too afraid to change forms for fear that he’d be confronted with that near-death smell again.

Instead, he squeezed Charlie tight, and wished more than anything that he could’ve prevented this, or that he could be helping Castiel save her right now.

When this was all over, he and Castiel would have to practice dreamwalking, and then Dean would _make sure_ to join him, if Castiel was able to bring others into the dream with him. Waiting was torture.

Suddenly, Dean’s hackles rose. He surveyed the dilapidated room, and gently set Charlie on the ground. A growl started low in his chest, and then rumbled out when he shifted back to a German Shepherd.

That’s when he smelled it.

The djinn was coming back.

And Dean was on his own.  


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for slight gore/violence!
> 
> And then it gets hella cute, go figure.

The djinn was fugly.

Like the others of its kind that Dean had encountered with his dad, this djinn looked like a human male with tattoos covering every inch of skin. This particular djinn also had a ratty goatee, and a misshapen nose with nostrils that flared when it entered the room. Its glowing blue eyes locked onto the sight of Dean standing before Charlie and Castiel, and Dean responded by baring his teeth and growling, his ears back in a threatening posture. He was still in the form of a German Shepherd.

The djinn pulled a knife from the ratty confines of what might’ve once been clothes, but which were now rags that hung off its thin frame. Dean blinked, and the djinn materialized at his side to take a swipe at him. He just barely managed to jump away when the djinn narrowed in on Castiel.

Dean pivoted quickly and lunged to sink his teeth into the creature’s leg. The djinn howled in pain and brought the knife down in a stab that glanced off Dean’s shoulder blade. Dean swallowed his pained whimper and held on, using his powerful neck muscles to shake his head so his teeth could tear even more into the flesh of the djinn’s leg. He knocked the creature off balance, but the djinn, now on its back, recovered enough to kick Dean away with its other leg.

The kick was hard enough that Dean heard a crack, and his chest spasmed with pain. He snarled and attacked again, forcing the djinn to edge away from Charlie and Castiel. The djinn slashed out with the knife and caught Dean’s front right leg. He staggered back, but not before head-butting the djinn’s legs until it fell again, just as it had started to rise.

The djinn landed on its stomach this time, and Dean launched onto its back. The creature screamed in agony as Dean shredded everything within reach with his claws and teeth. He eventually got to its neck, and though the djinn tried to twist around, Dean used his full weight to press hard. Then his teeth tore into soft skin, and Dean ripped and bit until the djinn stopped moving.

Dean waited to make sure it wasn’t faking it, and finally stepped off the djinn’s body. He was limping slightly, and had to pause to spit out blood and gore from his mouth. Ugh.

Twin gasps resounded through the room, and Dean staggered over to where Charlie’s eyelids fluttered weakly and Castiel stretching slowly.

“Merry Christmas,” Charlie breathed, and her eyes found Dean. “Mr. Fluffles?”

Dean was too overjoyed to think. He transformed back into his human self so he could hug her, even though his ribs hurt and he was bleeding from several cuts. Not to mention how grisly he probably looked, with the djinn’s blood dripping down his face and neck.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. Oh god,” Dean said.

“You were just a dog,” Charlie said breathily.

Dean stiffened.

“‘S’okay. Cas told me all bout it….” Her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.

Dean looked to Castiel for confirmation, and his Witch nodded with a wince.

“I’m sorry. I had to tell her or she wouldn’t have been able to break the illusion.”

Dean swallowed. “It’s alright. You had no choice.” He closed his eyes and moaned. “Guess I should call Victor now.”

* * *

 

“You were the one I hit with my car?”

Those were Charlie’s first words after Dean gave her the low-down about the supernatural community. He was in Charlie’s hospital room, where she was recovering from severe blood loss and dehydration. Two days had passed since her rescue, and color had returned to her cheeks. More importantly, there was life in her eyes again.

Dean hadn’t wanted to overwhelm her with everything all at once, but as soon as he walked in the door, Charlie demanded that he tell her what was up and refused to take no for an answer.

So, Dean relented. The spiel he gave her was well-practiced, but he hadn’t quite expected her reaction.

“I hit you with my car,” Charlie repeated. “You. In dog form.”

“Um. Yeah,” Dean said. He scratched the back of his head. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. It was my fault anyways. I wasn’t looking where I was.”

“Because you were looking for your Witch. Castiel.”

“Yeah.” Dean let her process that information. It was almost like he could see the gears whirring in her head. As much as he had dreaded revealing the truth to her, he had to say that she was taking it well. Almost too well. She had the kind of calculating mind that he could tell was already trying to figure out how it all worked. Of course, Charlie was the mastermind behind all their LARPing adventures, so he should’ve expected this to some extent.

“Okay. So your powers help you heal. But how? Does magic regenerate your cells or something?”

“Whoa, hey, just rest, will you? You can ask me a million questions once you’re better.”

Charlie, who’d sat up in excitement, sank back into her pillows, abruptly exhausted. “Yeah. Wow. I just can’t believe it. Like, you’re not human.”

“Nope.”

“And you secretly work for the cops to take down supernatural bad guys.” She gasped. “Like the Men in Black! Except without snazzy suits and sunglasses.”

Dean shrugged. “Not really my style. Maybe more of Cas’s, but not mine.”

“Where is Cas anyways?”

“At work.”

“So you can be separated? How does that work? Can you still talk to him from a distance? How far does it go?”

Dean scrunched up his face. “Uh…I don’t know. We haven’t really tested it. From here I can get a read on his mood a bit, but I don’t think we can talk.” Dean paused and then frowned. “Hey, what’d I say about questioning me? Save the interrogation for when you’re vertical again, missy.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Well sorry that I just learned that things like werewolves and vampires are real. Cut me some slack.”

Dean smirked. “Fine.”

Charlie’s grin faded to concern. “You are okay, though, yeah? The thing that took me—a jinni was it?”

“Djinn.”

“Right, djinn. It didn’t hurt you at all?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Dean twisted and flexed to show off how very fine he was.

It was true. After dropping Charlie off at the hospital and conferring with Victor, Dean and Castiel had spent the night and the next day spooning in bed practically the entire time. Both of their magical energies had needed recharging—not to mention Dean’s wounds, which needed to be healed—and what worked best for them was, apparently, close physical contact.

Not that Dean had any problem with that. Far from it, actually, considering the hope that had kindled during Samhain, after talking with his mom.

She’d told him to let their relationship progress naturally, so Dean hadn’t pushed. Plus, their Bond was still new, and as far as Dean was concerned, the ball was in Castiel’s court.

If Castiel wanted something to happen, he needed to initiate it. He hadn’t yet, but Dean was fine with...with cuddling.

There really wasn’t another way of describing it.

“So wait,” Charlie said, and Dean was yanked from his thoughts. “You can be a bird, too?”

“Yep. Like I said, it’s rare for a Familiar to be more than one designation.”

“But you’re special.”

Dean winked. “Hell yeah I am.”

“Can you show me? It’s just like…I can’t even comprehend this. How do you know what to turn into? Do you study the different breeds before you transform?”

“Well, my parents showed me a lot. That was part of our training as kids. And yeah, we study breed names, too. Names have power and all that jazz.”

“Okay. So can you do a Quaker Parakeet? I had one when I was younger. Her name was Skittles.”

Dean sifted through the types in his head, and found the right image. “Can do.” He glanced around the room, wary of getting seen, before he closed his eyes and changed.

Charlie let out a delighted gasp when he flitted to her bed and hopped across the blankets.

“Oh my god! That was incredible. Look at you! You’re so cute. And you transform with your clothes!”

Dean twittered in confirmation, and nuzzled Charlie’s hand as she brought it down to stroke his head.

“So soft. Oh no. Now I miss Skittles.”

The doorknob rattled. “Hi there, Charlie. How are you feeling?” a nurse asked.

Charlie cut off Dean’s yelp as she scooped him up and shoved him under the blankets.

“I’m feeling fine!” Charlie said, her voice pitched higher than normal.

Dean crouched underneath the blankets and waited for the routine check-up to finish. The air was stale under the blankets, and when Charlie asked the nurse some questions, Dean shifted so he could nip at her leg.

Charlie jerked and nearly whacked Dean in the process. “Oh! Um. Never mind. I can ask later. I’m kind of tired right now.”

“Alright,” the nurse said, a hint of doubt in her voice. “I’ll be back to check in around 2.”

“Thanks! And could you close the door on your way out? Thanks again. You’re the best.”

The door clicked shut, and Charlie flipped over the blankets to expose Dean.  

“What the hell?” she said.

Dean flapped down to the floor and transformed back into a human. “Ugh,” he said as he mock-coughed. “Do you know how gross it was trying to breathe under there?”

“You were only under there for like a minute. Two tops.”

“A minute too long, thank you very much.” They stared at each other for a second, and then burst out laughing.

“This is so cool,” Charlie said when she’d recovered. She winced as she lay back. “So you have to be born with it? I couldn’t learn to become a Familiar or anything?”

“No, sorry.”

“What about becoming a Witch? Can I do magic?”

“It’s all based on bloodlines, so unless you’ve got a Witch in your ancestry, that’s probably a no.”

Charlie frowned in thought. “I’ll have to do some research into my genealogy. There’s got to be someone.”

“Charlie,” Dean said, a warning in his voice as he placed a hand on her arm. “It’s not all fun and games, you know. It’s dangerous. You almost died, remember?”

Charlie pouted, and her eyelids were slow to open again.

Dean patted her lightly. “Get some sleep. We can talk more later.”

Charlie murmured a goodbye, and Dean slipped out of the room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My work just had a Halloween program for kids, and it was so cute! I love their little costumes! The best part was that my supervisor confided in me that one of her four-year-old grandsons had a crush on me! AHHH!
> 
> Alas I had to reject his advances. The age gap was just too much!


	18. Chapter 18

In the parking lot of the hospital, Dean found a hidden corner and transformed into a pigeon so he could fly over to Gabriel’s café, where Castiel was at work. He’d thought of taking his car, but since the whole djinn ordeal and his subsequent recovery, Dean had felt like relying on his own powers for once.

Like with his mom, it felt good to stretch his wings. Dean wished he didn’t have to be a rat with wings to accomplish that, but he didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention.

Dean rode the air currents, and dove down once he recognized Gabriel’s building. He swooped to land on the balcony railing. Kali was already there, and gave him an uninterested look as she swished her tail. She was in the form of a Siamese cat this time, and Dean wondered if she could become bigger felines, too, or if she was restricted to domestic breeds.

He didn’t think she’d tell him if he asked, so Dean flapped down to the alley and returned to his human self. At once, he felt Castiel’s presence, so that when he opened the door, Castiel looked over and smiled at him, wide and dopey.

 _Have a good flight?_ Castiel asked telepathically.

Dean grinned as pleasant heat coursed through him. Even if Castiel hadn’t been his Witch, Dean probably still would’ve been attracted to the warmth in Castiel’s eyes and the pure happiness in his gummy smile.

“Geez, get a room,” Gabriel said through cupped hands.

“Oh shut up,” Dean said as he leaned on the front counter, but he couldn’t keep the grin from his face. They were alone in the café, for which he was grateful.

“How’s Charlie?” Castiel asked as he approached Dean.

Dean had seen it before, of course, but there was something about Castiel in a little apron that _did_ things to him.

“God you’re so cute,” Dean blurted out, instead of answering his Witch’s question.

Castiel’s whole face flushed, and he ducked his head. Dean could feel his pleased embarrassment through their Bond. Dean’s heart fluttered in his chest, and at the amusement tingeing their Bond, he knew Castiel felt it, too.

Having a Bond really complicated the whole ‘keep your feelings a secret’ thing he’d opted on.

“And I thought _I_ liked sappy shit,” Gabriel said, and Castiel shoved him.

“Shut up, Gabriel.”

But Gabriel just smirked and winked pointedly at Dean.

“Oh my god, I can’t handle this,” came a voice. A woman strode into the café with dark skin and ringlets of black hair. She wore heels and a stunning red dress.

“Hey, babe,” Gabriel said. “Getting grossed out from how disgusting they are?”

Dean blinked at the familiar magic the woman exuded. “Kali?” he guessed.

Kali breezed past him to join Gabriel behind the counter. She was taller than her Witch, and pulled Gabriel close to peck a kiss on his forehead. “Ugh, yes. I just thank god we’re not like that.”

“Whoa. You two are…?” Dean asked, when he registered Kali’s actions. It was like she and Gabriel were a couple.

“Uh. Yeah. Why?” Gabriel asked.

Dean’s gaze drifted to Castiel. “Oh. No reason.”

Kali made an aggravated noise. “I can’t deal with this. I’m running away until they’re gone. Or maybe we can make them leave?”

“He’s my brother and my brother’s Familiar. Don’t think I got the power to do that.”

“You’re useless,” Kali said. “Now make me something to eat. I’m hungry.”

“Now _that_ I can do.” Gabriel tucked his arm around Kali’s waist and drew her into the back.

“So how is Charlie?” Castiel repeated, once they’d gone.

“She’s good, really. I’ve never met a human who so quickly accepted the supernatural before.” Dean relayed through their Bond his experience transforming into a parakeet for her, and then having to hide from the nurse.

Castiel laughed. “Should I be jealous?”

“What, that I was in her bed? Dude, we share a room.”

Castiel leaned his elbows on the counter, but shyly averted his eyes. “I mean. I….” He was prevented from saying anything else when a group of customers walked in. Dean stepped back to let Castiel do his job. For some reason, what felt like _disappointment_ rankled in his gut, along with a healthy growth of nerves.

Castiel looked like he wanted to say something, but his courage left him and he offered Dean a small smile.

 _See you later,_ Castiel said, with a hint of sadness. Or…regret?

_Yeah, see ya._

Dean reached the door. He left the café, and once outside, flew back to his apartment to get ready for his shift at The Roadhouse.

After enduring Ellen’s interrogation—which had thankfully lessened in intensity due to his now-Bonded status (though she was still curious about how he was doing with Castiel)—Dean met Benny in the kitchen. They got to work chopping up vegetables for a stew, and a few minutes passed before Benny broke the silence.

“Something eating at you, brother?”

“Hm? What makes you say that?” Dean asked.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Dean sighed. “Just thinking, I guess. Wondering about…um. Well. Me and Cas, you know?”

“Ah. Boy troubles, then.”

“No!” Dean said quickly. “He’s my _Witch_.”

“Uh-huh. And you’re pining for him like you did for Aaron.”

“What? No I’m not. Aaron flirted with me first.”

“Exactly. You let _him_ make the first move.”

“So?”

“So why not switch it around?”

“Because…because it’s _different_ okay? I knew Aaron wasn’t gonna be a huge thing. But if I start with Cas. I mean, we’re Bonded. Forever.”

“Mmhmm. So what’s your Bond telling ya? He like you back?”

Dean hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know.” But the way he said it, he and Benny both knew he was lying. Dean sighed again. “I’m still figuring this out, okay? It’s awesome being Bonded, but it’s different.”

“Alright. Whatever you gotta tell yourself.”

Thankfully, they said nothing more about it through the rest of dinner service. It was a busy one, but Dean was glad the work kept his mind and body occupied, so he didn’t have to obsess over his pending “relationship” or whatever they decided on.

How weird that this was his life now. Instead of worrying about dying, he was worrying about having a deeper relationship with his Witch. Dean was damn lucky his problems had diminished, but they still existed. Sure, it wasn’t life and death anymore, but it was still something big, something important.

And his conversation with Benny had reminded him of something.

Here Dean was, focusing just on him and Castiel when there were other people in his life. People like Aaron, who Dean hadn’t contacted while he settled in to his Bond with Castiel.

Aaron had been gracious when he first heard the news of their Bond, gracious because, unlike Dean, he was a stand-up guy. A dweeb, yeah, but still someone that respected what a big deal that was for Dean. Aaron cared about him, maybe more than he should, but he thought of Dean as his friend. 

And how had Dean repaid him?

Radio silence.

So, when his shift at The Roadhouse ended, Dean glanced at his phone. It was late, but not _too_ late. Aaron liked staying up anyways, and Dean thought the guy was due a surprise social visit.

Dean texted Castiel to let him know, since they were out of range to speak telepathically. (He made a mental note to test it with Castiel and see what the Bond’s distance was. Charlie had asked some very relevant questions).

Castiel texted back with a thumbs-up emoji, and then a smiley face with its eyes closed and z’s coming from its mouth.

 _Nighty night_ , Dean wrote with a grin.

 _It’s not the same without you in bed, but I’m too tired._ was Castiel’s response.

 _Then get some sleep, bozo._ Dean hit send and realized he was smiling to himself in the dark, all alone.

But he could just picture Castiel’s irritation—the mussed hair and squint between his brows. Castiel was not a Witch to have his sleep interrupted, as Dean had learned the few times he’d woken up in the night to disentangle himself from Castiel so he could go to the bathroom. Castiel had pouted even in his sleep, and immediately yanked Dean back to him when he returned.

If Castiel were a Familiar, he would’ve been an octopus. Seriously. The guy latched on to Dean like no one’s business. And when he wasn’t smothering Dean, he was taking up all the blankets, or sprawling like he owned the place. Dean had to sleep in the form of a small dog or bird sometimes, because Castiel took up so much room on their bed.

A large part of Dean wanted to go home right now and join Castiel, but he’d made up his mind that he would stop neglecting his friends. Just look at what happened to Charlie. Dean wouldn’t make that same mistake again, especially with a guy like Aaron.

Aaron’s apartment was farther downtown. Dean had taken his car to work, because he knew he’d get out late and it was miserable trying to fly at night, even with all the streetlights. Dean’s vision as a bird was better than as a human, but there was a reason birds nested as soon as the sun went down.

Dean drove over to Aaron’s, parked on the curb, and skipped up the steps to his place. The lights were on, so that was good. Aaron was still awake. Dean knocked on the door and waited.

After nothing happened, he knocked again. This time, muffled footsteps sounded through the wood. Aaron cracked open the door, and Dean waved.

“Hey, man. Long time no see.”

“Dean?” Aaron croaked. His voice sounded hoarse, and when he opened the door wider, Dean grimaced at the sight of him. Aaron was pale and shaking.

“Oh man, you look awful. Are you sick?”

Aaron shook his head, and Dean froze at the muted horror in his friend’s eyes.

“Aaron? What’s going on?”

Aaron gestured for Dean to come on, and then he closed the door.

Inside, the place was a mess. Books and papers littered the floor in a wide circle, and in the center sat a notebook with all kinds of scribbles on it in the form of Hebrew letters.

“Redecorating?” Dean said, attempting a joke, but it fell flat at the way Aaron hugged himself and shivered.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s…. I can’t remember what happened.”

“Dude, are you okay?” Dean steered Aaron toward the couch, and they sat. Something felt wrong, really wrong, and there was a lingering odor in the air. Dean couldn’t quite place it, but it was definitely familiar.

Aaron’s teeth chattered. “It was so cold. I went out to get my mail and then…it was cold, _freezing_. I woke up here and…. God, I feel so dirty. And I don’t even know what happened. How any of this got like this.” He gestured feebly to the room.

“Are you saying you blacked out?” Dean asked. His eyes trailed past Aaron’s toward the guest room, which had become Greg the Golem’s room, for lack of a better term. The Golem preferred its box to any bed, so it usually lay in there like a vampire in a coffin.

But from what Dean could see, the door to the room was open. And…. Dean stood, his heart seizing.

The box was empty.

“Aaron. Where’s your Golem?”

Aaron covered his face with his hands. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

And as Dean returned to the couch, he finally registered the scent.

Sulfur.

Demons.

“ _Christo_ ,” Dean said, but he knew it was too late. The demon that had possessed Aaron had already fled, but not before figuring out how to work his Golem.

The second that realization hit, Dean was knocked to his knees by a burst of fear and anger through his Bond, then a flare of pain.

And Dean just knew that these two incidents couldn’t be a coincidence.

Aaron’s Golem was attacking Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun!
> 
> I don't know how this keeps happening! One second it's all cute and fluffy, the next it's a violent and scary thriller. Sheesh. Hope you guys are enjoying the rollercoaster!
> 
> On a side note, I finally got back into the swing of writing this. Yay! Hopefully I'll have time to work on it more! If worst comes to worse, I'll update once a week, instead of every 4-5 days, just to give myself some more leeway. We shall see....


	19. Chapter 19

Pain lanced through Dean, to the extent that he could barely breathe. He distantly registered Aaron hovering at his side, but all he could think about was Castiel. He needed to get to him. He needed to _be there_. His Witch was in trouble. He needed Dean, and he needed him _now_.

Dean staggered to his feet. “I think I know where your Golem is. Come on. And you better know how to stop it.”

Aaron’s face, already pale, drained of even more color. He stooped to frantically rifle through the books and papers on the ground. “Yeah, I think I have something here somewhere. I hope.”

“It was a demon. A demon possessed you,” Dean said through gritted teeth. He could still feel that Castiel was alive, but for how much longer? If he died, Dean would die, too.

And he would always regret not being there.

But he had to stay positive. From the Bond, he got a sense that Castiel was fighting back, but he was losing. Maybe whatever sent the Golem was only looking to hurt him, and not kill him.

Gee, how comforting.

“Demons?” Aaron repeated. “Holy shit. Oh god. Um. That makes sense. No wonder I feel so shitty.”

“Aaron, you need to find what you’re looking for right now,” Dean said, and Aaron jumped at his harsh tone of voice. “Your Golem’s attacking Cas.”

Aaron’s eyes widened and he dug faster. “Okay. Yeah, here it is. It’s a pause command. It won’t destroy him, but…it should be enough.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Dean didn’t even process the drive back to his apartment. Aaron spent most of it babbling apologies from the passenger seat, which Dean waved away because it wasn’t the guy’s fault. It was his. He should’ve thought to protect his friends better. Hell, he’d given everyone lessons on avoiding demon possessions not too long ago, back when the _kitsune_ got possessed. Hadn’t Aaron been there? Dean couldn’t remember, and now he wished that he had double-checked the attendance to make sure everyone was included.

Dean threw himself out of the car the instant after he parked and bolted to his apartment. There, he slammed open the unlocked door.

Like Aaron’s place, Dean’s living room was a mess: a knocked-over lamp, an upturned coffee table, broken glass from a destroyed picture frame, toppled shelves from his bookcase and the contents on the floor. But while Dean processed the details in his periphery, his gaze narrowed in on what stood in the center.

There was Greg the Golem, all seven feet of his hulking form. He held a barely conscious Castiel by the neck. Castiel’s tiptoes brushed against the floor, and he hung limp. His face was bruised, and a cut on his forehead bled freely. His pajamas were ripped, revealing bloody gashes, and Dean’s first instinct was to growl at the sight.

How _dare_ they hurt his Witch!

Because Greg wasn’t alone. Standing next to him, with a smug expression, was a smaller bearded man in a black suit and red tie.

“And here he is, the man of the hour,” the man said, and he spoke with a smarmy British accent.

Dean bared his teeth. “Let him go.”

“Down, boy. I just want to talk.”

Dean scoffed. “Oh really?”

The man shrugged. “Okay, fair enough. I just want to talk to _you_. I have different orders for _him_.” He jerked a thumb at Castiel.

“What orders? Who are you?”

“The name’s Crowley. I’m a demon.” He flipped his eyes to black, and then back again. “And I am also, unfortunately, in the service of a right _bastard_ if I may say so.”

Dean sucked in a breath. “The Angelus Coven? It…worked?”

Crowley’s lip curled. “Ah, so you were familiar with their plan. Oh. Hah. Familiar. Get it?”

Dean didn’t laugh. “So they’ve got demons as their bitches, then?”

Crowley bristled. “I don’t know how, but yes. Not a very pleasant surprise to wake up from your daily torture programming to find yourself inside a pasty white house full of _angel_ figurines.” He made a gagging noise.

Dean’s eyes flicked to Castiel, who was starting to lose his grip on consciousness.

“What do you want?” Dean demanded, stepping forward.

“Whoa, hey, let’s not get hasty.” Crowley followed Dean’s gaze and sighed dramatically. “Oh, fine. Golem, release him.”

Greg opened his hand, and Castiel crumpled to the floor, where he choked and then lay still.

Every nerve in his body demanded for Dean to attend to his Witch, but instead he glared at Crowley. “I said, _what do you want_?”

Crowley just smiled, and Dean resisted the urge to stalk over and punch him in his little limey head.

“I want to be freed. I’ve got a binding on me that I’m not really a fan of. Thought you might be able to help.”

“Why the fuck would I help you?”

Crowley glanced at Castiel and let out another dramatic sigh. “Would it be better if I said this wasn’t personal, it was just orders? My… _Witch_ forced me to find and apprehend him, through any means necessary.”

Dean’s fists clenched at his sides. “You’re not taking him.”

“I don’t have much choice. I have to obey their orders.” Crowley’s smirk returned. “But they never told me I can’t seek help to get out of this dandy little arrangement. And I hear you’re from a powerful Familiar clan. You must know something.”

Dean snorted, and was about to tell Crowley to shove it when Aaron edged into the room. He stood behind Dean and held up his phone.

“Give me my Golem back!” he said, and he pressed a button. A recording of a demon exorcism played, and Crowley visibly flinched.

“Damn you. Stop it! Just _stop_. I’ll give him back. I just didn’t want to get blood on my new suit. For god’s sake turn it _off_!”

Dean turned to Aaron and nodded.

Aaron pressed pause, but his eyes were wild. “Give him _back_.”

Crowley straightened his suit lapels. “Relax. I couldn’t take your Golem with me even if I wanted to. Just thought I’d have some fun after I got the info I needed.” Crowley’s smirk widened as he eyed Dean pointedly. “Your friend has an awfully dirty mind when he’s not throwing himself a pity party and wishing _he_ was the one boning you.”

Aaron strode past Dean and stabbed a finger at Crowley. “You stay out of my head!”

Crowley shuddered. “Gladly.” He cringed as if in pain, and turned to Castiel.

Dean launched himself forward. “Hey! No! You don’t get to take him!”

Crowley ground his teeth. “I have to follow orders and take him back with me. Him and only him.” He paused suddenly, and Dean held his breath. “Unless….”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you were to incapacitate me completely.” Crowley stroked his chin. “I don’t suppose either of you bozos know a spell for Holy Fire?”

There was a beat of silence, and then a croaking voice drifted up from the floor.

“I know it,” Castiel said as he sat up with a wince. He held himself tenderly, favoring his left arm. Dean hissed at the state of his wrist, which was twisted badly.

“Cas,” Dean started.

_I’m fine. I can do it,_ Castiel said, but even his mental voice sounded tired and full of pain.

Crowley clapped his hands. “Perfect. Then consider this a gesture of goodwill, because Holy Fire is hardly a walk in the park.” He met Dean’s eyes. “And remember that I know a good deal about you, Dean Winchester. You will help me get out of this, or I swear I will hunt down and kill everyone you love. I don’t care if they know how to ward off demons or have anti-possession tattoos. Everyone slips eventually. And everyone has a weakness.”

Dean’s jaw tightened, and he inhaled a few breaths before nodding once. “Fine. How do I contact you?”

“Here’s my calling card.” Crowley removed a business card from an inner pocket of his suit and set it down on the cracked coffee table. “Master Raphael doesn’t seem to realize that demons are tech-savvy. We use things called _phones_ now.”

Castiel gasped at the name, drawing Dean’s attention.

_You okay?_ Dean asked.

_No. I know Raphael. I just can’t believe she would do this._

“Alright. Time to face the flames,” Crowley said. He turned to Castiel and spread his arms. “Give me your best shot.”

“I need a moment,” Castiel said, and he closed his eyes. He mouthed words to himself and then reached up to the gash on his forehead to coat his fingers with his own blood. “This will have to do,” he muttered, and then dragged himself forward so he could draw a bloody circle around where Crowley stood. The process was painstaking for Dean, and he winced when Castiel had to pinch to reopen his wound at one point, just so he would have enough.

When the circle was complete, Castiel paused to level Crowley with an icy glare. The effect was somewhat diminished since he was on the floor and Crowley towered above him, but Dean could sense the pure fury radiating through Castiel as he spoke.

“Understand me, demon. If you harm Dean or anyone in his family, you will have much more than Holy Fire to deal with.”

“I could still turn you over to your precious coven,” Crowley started, but Castiel whispered the words of the spell, and the bloody circle ignited. Crowley immediately went up in flames, and his screech was inhuman as he writhed in the fire.

It appeared that the binding spell kicked in soon after that, because Crowley vanished. The flames remained until Castiel whispered more words, and then he swayed. Dean ran to catch him, and there was silence.

Aaron approached his Golem, but Dean didn’t see what he did. His whole focus was on Castiel, who had finally slipped unconscious. Dean picked him up, bridal-style, and aimed for the bedroom, where he set Castiel down gently. He left for his first aid kit in the bathroom, and returned to clean Castiel up. Dean knew that their combined magic would heal him, but he could at least wipe the blood off and help the cuts get started on the mending process.

Castiel woke as Dean was just finishing.

“Dean,” he murmured, and he reached up with his good arm. Dean let himself be pulled down to Castiel’s level.

_I want to kiss you_ ,Castiel said in his head.

Dean gasped. “Cas?”

“Please,” Castiel said, and who was Dean to deny himself any longer? He leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

As far as first kisses went, it was wet, slightly bloody, and pretty tame. They were both exhausted, so Dean just shoved the first aid kit onto the floor, and curled up on Castiel’s side. He awkwardly shifted the blankets until they were covered, clothes and all.

A soft knock sounded on the door.

“Hey, um. I’m really sorry to bother you, but….”

Dean sat up. “What’s up? You okay?”

Aaron shrugged in the doorway. His shoulders slumped. “Not…not really, no. I kinda don’t want to be alone right now? If I can just stay in the guest room?”

Dean bit his lip.

_Let him stay. He’s your friend,_ Castiel said.

“Yeah. Go ahead, man.”

“Thanks. For everything.”

They exchanged a meaningful look, but Aaron nodded at Castiel, who had closed his eyes. Aaron gave Dean a smile and then a thumbs-up.

Dean’s heart lodged in his throat. “Night, Aaron.”

“Good night. Oh, and don’t freak out if you run into Greg. He’s still in the living room, but he’s, uh… _off_ now.”

“Okay. See ya in the morning.”

Aaron closed the door, and the room descended into pitch blackness.

Dean snuggled closer to Castiel and finally closed his own eyes.

“You know,” Castiel said slowly, sleepily. “I wanted to ask you something. Earlier, in the café.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm.”

“You gonna be awake long enough to ask it, or are you gonna keep me waiting?” Dean asked.

“Mmm.”

“ _Cas_.”

Castiel chuckled softly. “I wanted to ask…if you wanted to be with me. Like, more.”

Dean’s heart pounded. “More as in…?”

“Together. Like Gabriel and Kali.”

Dean hugged Castiel tightly. He filtered his fear of losing him through the Bond, plus his worry that their relationship would screw it all up between them.

“Need I remind you that we Bonded while asleep? I think what’s between us is strong enough,” Castiel said. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“Cas. You can feel what I feel. You know I want to.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

Dean thought about it. “Now? Nothing, I guess.” He nuzzled into Castiel, and they both sighed as magic flowed between them.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms like every other night, but this time, Dean felt the difference.

They weren’t just Witch and Familiar. They were something _more_ , and they’d have all the time in the world to explore exactly what that meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oddly enough, this is the first time Crowley's ever been in one of my stories. I've never found him that interesting, so I never wrote for him before.


	20. Chapter 20

When Dean padded into the kitchen late the next morning, leaving Castiel all ‘sleeping beauty’ in their bed, it was to find that his living room had been put back in order. In fact, he caught the cleaning culprit red-handed: Aaron was sweeping some glass into a dustpan, and froze when Dean noticed him.

“Hey, man, you didn’t have to do that,” Dean said.

“Yeah, I know. I wanted to.” Aaron wouldn’t meet his eyes as he stood and dumped the pan into the trash in the kitchen.

“You get any sleep?” Dean asked as Aaron returned to the living room to sweep up the rest.

He shrugged. “Some. Had a nightmare that kept me up.”

Dean frowned in concern. “Okay, just stop. Stop. Come on. Let’s have some coffee.” Dean grabbed Aaron and tugged him into the kitchen, where he forced him to sit at the table.

“I’m so sorry,” Aaron said, as Dean rummaged for his coffee filters.

“For what? It’s not your fault. Shit happens.”

“I should’ve protected myself better. And now that thing knows all about you.”

Dean set the machine and turned to meet Aaron’s eyes. “I’m telling you, it’s not your fault. Demons suck. You’re lucky it let you live. I’m just glad you’re still here.” Dean’s eyes trailed to the living room, and he stiffened. “Um. Wait. Where’s Greg?”

“Oh, I sent him home.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.” Aaron’s gaze darted away. “And about what the demon said….”

“I know how you feel about me,” Dean said, and he wished he didn’t have to have this conversation before he was really awake, but Aaron needed it now. He braced his hands on the counter. “I’m just sorry I don’t feel the same about you. I mean, you’re awesome.” He shot Aaron a smile.

Aaron’s mouth twisted, skeptical. “How you figure that?”

“Because, man. You took care of me for a long time. And you figured out how to work the Golem all on your own, so that makes you smart. You’re not bad-looking either. And you give good cock.”

Aaron sputtered out a laugh, which was what Dean was aiming for.

Dean grinned. “And you’re the best, you know? I’m just sorry I can’t be what you want me to be. You’ll find someone better. Promise.”

Oh boy, Dean giving a pep talk _and_ relationship advice. Would wonders never cease? Sam would be laughing if he was here right now. And speaking of Dean’s brother, he should give him a call and let him know what happened. Plus, Sarah might know of the spell the Angelus Coven had used to bind the demons to them. It had to be old magic, and maybe she had run across it in one of the ancient books she studied.

But first thing’s first: breakfast.

The conversation topics were lighter as Dean doled out coffee and then got started on eggs and toast. Aaron’s face was still pale, but it gained more color with each sip and with each laugh that Dean got out of him, so he considered it a win.

At long last, Aaron stood to go. He placed his empty breakfast plate in the sink.

“You gonna be okay?” Dean asked.

Aaron steeled himself and nodded. “I think so.”

Dean yanked Aaron into a hug and squeezed tight. “You call if you need anything, okay? I got Cas now, but that doesn’t mean we’re not still friends.”

They pulled apart, and Aaron gave him a real smile that reached all the way to his eyes. “Thanks, Dean.”

“No problem. You take care of yourself, you hear?” Dean said with a quick shoulder pat.

“I will.”

Dean waved goodbye, and as soon as Aaron left, he searched for his phone. He found it on the bureau in the bedroom, where he’d half-consciously placed it before falling asleep next to Castiel.

Dean paused to take in the image of his sleeping Witch.

Castiel had fallen asleep on his back, and hadn’t moved the entire night. He was dead to the world, which was good, because he was still healing. His left wrist lay at his side, and Dean could see it was still puffy and not quite functional yet. He didn’t know how long it’d take to heal completely, but Castiel could afford more sleep. He was definitely _not_ going into work today.

“Oh crap,” Dean whispered. He grabbed Castiel’s cell phone, which had been near where he’d left his, and departed the bedroom so he wouldn’t disturb him.

Gabriel had texted and called several times, wondering where Castiel was. Dean texted back to let him know that Castiel wasn’t feeling well, and was staying home. Oh, and sorry for giving him the message late. Dean would fill him in later, since Gabriel deserved to know that the Coven knew where Castiel was, and had set their demon after him. It was only a matter of time before they found Gabriel, too, though at least he had the advantage that Aaron knew nothing about him, therefore Crowley didn’t have that information.

Dean called Sam while he reclined on the couch. He sipped at a second cup of coffee, more because the warmth felt good rather than the fact that he needed to wake up.

Sam picked up on the third ring. “Ugh. What?”

“Morning to you, too. It’s not _that_ early where you are.”

“I know. Was up late studying.”

“Ah, should’ve figured. Nerd.”

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious. You try taking some of these classes. I’m pretty sure the professors are trying to kill us.”

Dean grimaced at Sam’s joke, because what he had to say wasn’t funny. He and Castiel had very nearly died the night before, after all.

“Uh. So. I got something really big to tell you,” Dean said, and he hoped Sam picked up on the seriousness of his tone.

“Yeah, okay. What happened?”

So Dean told him.

Sam asked for clarification a few times, but he mostly kept silent until Dean was finished. Then, he let out a huge breath. “Oh my god. You could’ve _died_.”

“Yeah. Funny, right? Story of my life.”

“No I mean, this is _huge_. Demons shouldn’t be able to be Bound like that. It’s not in their nature. They’re too changeable.”

“So what do you think about what Crowley said?”

Sam was quiet for a second, thinking. “It seems that whatever binding spell the Angelus Coven used, it isn’t that strong. It can’t compete with a Witch/Familiar Bond, and obviously has tons of loopholes. You said Crowley’s orders were to take in Cas by any means, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But he still had a ton of freedom to do whatever he wanted. He possessed Aaron, learned about you, and then decided to play with the Golem just because he could. He wasn’t really limited by the binding. Only that he _had_ to take in Cas, right?”

“Seemed like it.”

“Hmm.”

“Okay, that’s _helpful_. What am I supposed to do?”             

“Let me talk to Sarah and see what she thinks. It looks like you should consider freeing him, though.”

“What? Freeing Crowley?”

“If you find a way to free him, we can break all the demons free from the Angelus Coven, and then the coven will be weakened. Dean, they’re after Cas. They may never stop trying to get him. Don’t you want them to leave you alone, now that you’re Bonded with the guy?”

Dean paused. He hadn’t considered that. “So you think the two of us can take down the whole Angelus Coven?”

“Well, no. But that’s why you’ve got us. Me, Sarah, Jess, Anna. Mom and Dad, definitely Bobby, Rufus. We’re on your side. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Dean coughed around the lump in his throat. “Thanks, man.”

“‘Course.”

“So uh…how’s stuff going with you and Jess? Everyone getting along yet?”

Sam made an uncomfortable noise. “Uh yeah. It’s going _really_ well actually. Um. So Sarah and Anna are a thing?”

“What? No way.”

“Yeah. And the four of us have all hung out together and…we’re good. Really good.”

“Jess showing yet?”

“No, not yet. But oh my god, I can’t wait. I wonder what Familiar designation the baby will be. Can you imagine?”

Dean could practically hear Sam smiling. “I’m happy for you. Glad things are working out for Sarah.”

“Me, too. You have _no_ idea.”

Dean chuckled. He glanced up when Castiel appeared in the doorway, yawning. “Hey Sam? I gotta go. Cas just woke up. Let me know what Sarah says.”

“Will do. And you better tell Mom and Dad. I’m not going to be your messenger boy.”

“I will, I will. Get back to your studies, bitch.”

“Bye, jerk.”

They hung up, and Dean stood. “Hey, how you feeling?”

Castiel was thoughtful. “Much better.” He still cradled his wrist to his chest, so he added, “I just need a bit more time, I think.” His eyes widened. “Wait, what time is it? I haven’t called Gabriel yet.”

“Don’t worry. It’s done. I didn’t tell him what happened, though we’ll have to soon.”

Castiel’s face darkened. “Yes, we will.”

“But that can wait until you’re 100%. Come on. Let me make you breakfast.”

As Dean cracked some more eggs, he opened their Bond and let Castiel know everything that had happened since he woke up this morning, including his conversations with Aaron and Sam, plus his thoughts on what they should do now.

Castiel in turn absorbed the information, and showed Dean what had happened to him the previous night.

Dean had to stop cooking at the terror-filled image of the bedroom door thudding open, and the Golem dragging Castiel from his bed before beating him up in the living room, all while Crowley looked on, his face full of glee.

“It seems that spells don’t work against Golems,” Castiel said, after Dean had resumed breakfast.

Dean couldn’t say anything, but he let his worry and relief filter through their Bond. Castiel shared his back, and then Dean felt a tinge of embarrassment coming from his Witch.

“What?” he asked, as he scooped the eggs onto a plate and passed it to Castiel.

Castiel picked up a fork, but hesitated to dig in. “I kissed you.”

“And I kissed back.” 

“So…you really _do_ want to do this?”

“ _Yes_ , Cas, you dummy. Yes, I want us to be together like _that_.”

Castiel beamed, and Dean couldn’t help himself. His Witch’s gummy smile just did him in.

He leaned down and captured Castiel’s lips with his own. The angle was weird, since Dean was standing and Castiel was sitting, but then Castiel shoved one of the chairs at him and Dean sat so they were level.

This kiss was infinitely better than last night’s. This time, they were both fully aware, and they took time to explore each other. Castiel’s lips were soft and wet, and his stubble rasped against Dean’s as they shifted. Castiel’s breath was warm and slightly sour, as he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet, but Dean drank him in as he cupped the side of Castiel’s face. Castiel hummed and contentment washed through their Bond.

Dean had no idea how long they sat there in the kitchen, making out like teenagers, but at some point they mutually pulled apart. Castiel’s lips were bruised and wet, and Dean laughed when Castiel turned to his forgotten breakfast only to discover that his eggs had gone cold.

“I can make you more,” Dean said.

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t want to waste food.” So he dug in and ate what Dean had cooked him.

Dean, for his part, just sat at the table, his head propped up on his hands, unbelievably happy to watch his Witch eat. He couldn’t believe this was really happening, that he got to have this, especially after the close call last night. They’d been lucky.

“I have an idea,” Castiel said, once he’d set down his fork.

“About what?”

“About the demons, and my coven.” He swallowed and looked down. “They’re after me. Everyone they’ve hurt here is because of me.”

Dean scowled. “You can’t blame yourself for them driving you away. They’re horrible and crazy and giant dicks.”

A smile flitted over Castiel’s face to be replaced by determination. “I know that. But I have to make up for what’s going on around here. I have to stop them.”

“Don’t worry, Cas. _We_ will.”

Castiel met his eyes. “You’re right. _We_ will. And I think I know how. Do you remember what Crowley said, his master’s name?”

“Yeah. Something like Raphael?”

“Yes.” He inhaled. “I’m going to dreamwalk into Raphael’s head, and you’re going to come with me.”


	21. Chapter 21

Dean wrinkled his nose. “This stuff smells terrible. You sure you mixed it right?”

Bobby huffed as he passed a steaming mug of African Dream Root to Castiel, who was sitting at Bobby’s kitchen table next to Dean.

After Castiel’s declaration that he needed to dreamwalk with Raphael, they’d decided to go to Bobby for help, since he was the nearest and most knowledgeable Witch.

Castiel’s powers had a limited range, but with the aid of additional spells—or in this case, gross disgusting crap—he could augment his abilities and dreamwalk with anyone, no matter how far away they were physically (though, admittedly, they had to be asleep).

Bobby, being the walking encyclopedia he was, had suggested African Dream Root as soon as Dean and Castiel stepped through the door and updated him on their situation.

“This is correct,” Castiel said, as he peered into the mug. “I’ve used it before, but I didn’t think we’d find any around here. Thank you, Bobby. It’s perfect.”

“Yeah, well don’t sound so surprised,” Bobby said, gruff. “I do know what I’m doing, thank you very much.”

A snort sounded from the living room, where Rufus was reading in his human form.

“You shut it, Rufus,” Bobby said.

“Oh, alright. Sure. I’ll just be quiet then, even though _I_ was the one who thought of African Dream Root in the first place, and _you_ were the one who stole it from my head and took credit.”

“You’re a goddamn liar,” Bobby said.

“And you’re an old coot with mush for brains. Face it, if you didn’t have me, all that knowledge up in your melon would leak outta you like a sieve.”

Bobby didn’t say anything else, but at the growling from the living room, Dean assumed they were arguing through their Bond.

“Um, hello? Can we get the show on the road here?” he asked. Not that he was looking forward to this, but he _had_ said he didn’t want Castiel to go alone. It was time for him to suck it up and drink his own cup of the crap.

As Castiel put it, the Dream Root would provide extra assistance in allowing Dean to tag along, and would thus not tax him as much. Anything that could spare his Witch the extra effort when he was still healing was good in Dean’s book, as much as he hated it. Castiel’s wrist was functional again, but even though his magic was close to 100%, it wasn’t fully there yet.

Dean sniffed at his mug and gagged. The addition of Raphael’s hair, provided by Crowley, who’d been far too eager for the task after Dean called him, didn’t make the drink any more appetizing.

“Bottom’s up?” Dean said weakly. “And Bobby, you’ll look after our bodies instead of fighting with your Familiar the whole time, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got you, boy. Just both of you come back in one piece.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean demanded. Since when did dreamwalking present the kind of danger that could leave you in pieces?

_Dreamwalking uses your soul_ , Castiel said in his head, seeming to pick up on Dean’s confusion. _It not only leaves your body vulnerable in the real world, but it also directly exposes your soul to the dream world. If you die in a dream, you die in the real world._

_Holy shit why didn’t you tell me that before?_ Dean thought at Castiel, even though a part of him was secretly proud that his Witch was so badass and risked this kind of thing all the time.

Castiel picked up on Dean’s hint of pride, and flashed him a quick smirk. _I’m sorry I didn’t explain this before. I guess I thought you knew._

_Well, I didn’t. But thanks for telling me. Now I know what to expect._

_Are you sure you still want to come?_

_Cas, you really think after hearing_ that _that I’m ever letting you go alone again?_

Fond affection suffused their Bond, and Dean ducked his head to hide his blush.

When he finally glanced up again, it was to see Bobby eyeing him with a raised brow and an amused quirk to his lips. “And you were harping on me and Rufus.”

Besides his mom, no one else knew about his and Castiel’s ‘special’ relationship, but with the way Bobby regarded them, Dean figured he didn’t need to say anything. Especially not with the way Castiel was staring at him with freaking _heart eyes_.

“Cas, dude,” Dean said, but the cat was out of the bag.

“Mazel tov,” Bobby said, now smirking fully. “Should I check for my wedding invite in the mail?”

“Shut up,” Dean muttered, though it was good to know Bobby was on board. Witches and Familiars weren’t _supposed_ to have a connection like this, after all, and Dean couldn’t help but be relieved that Bobby didn’t find it offensive or anything.

Castiel frowned, puzzled. Of course their exchange had gone way over his head. “Dean? Are you ready? Raphael won’t be asleep for long.” That was another of Crowley’s duties, which he happily performed when his master’s back was turned.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I’m good.” He straightened, his face set. “Alright. Let’s do this. Cheers.” He clanked Castiel’s mug, and then downed the liquid in one go.

Shockingly, the taste wasn’t as jarring as he’d expected, given the smell. In fact, the worst part was Raphael’s hair. Dean nearly choked on it, but managed to swallow the whole thing.

“Uh. When do we know if it worked?” he asked, once he and Castiel had finished. But the second they set their mugs down, the world shifted until they were in a child’s upstairs bedroom. A hand clasped Dean’s, and he all but screamed until he realized it was just Castiel.

“Welcome to the dream world,” Castiel said ominously.

 “Really? This is it? Some kid’s dreary bedroom?” The window facing outside was dark, and rain pattered against the glass. A flash of lightning lit the room for a second, followed by a peal of thunder.

“Huh. So I guess anyone can dreamwalk if they’ve got the right potion.”

“They can, but they shouldn’t. And they can’t manipulate dreams like me,” Castiel said. He squinted. “This is definitely Raphael’s dream. Perhaps this was her room as a child.”

“Her? But Raphael is…?” Dean trailed off when Castiel supplied some memories of Raphael, complete with her coming out as transgender. “Huh,” Dean said. “Okay then. But are you sure this is her dream, and not a nightmare?”

“Let’s find out.”

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand, and they were abruptly standing in a living room. The lights were all off, and the windows were broken, allowing rain from a storm to pour inside.

A little boy sat on the floor right in the center of the room, near a coffee table that looked like it’d been thrust aside. His eyes were closed, and a smile tugged at his lips as wind howled through the open windows. Rain lashed against his face.

“What the hell kinda dream is this?” Dean said, and at the sound of his voice, the boy’s eyes shot open.

Raphael turned and stood as a fully grown woman, and they were all in a grassy, sunlit field, though Dean thought he could still hear the faint rumblings of thunder.

“Castiel. What are you doing here?” Raphael asked.

“I’m here because I have questions, and you have answers,” Castiel said. He stepped forward, his whole posture threatening.

Raphael lifted her chin. “Why would I tell you anything?”

“Because I’m a dreamwalker, and this is _my_ playground.” Castiel’s voice was low and eerie, and Dean shivered at the menace in his tone.

_Holy shit._

_I’m sorry you had to see this,_ Castiel thought, and Dean was just about to ask what he was apologizing for when the scene changed again, and Raphael was now strapped to a doctor’s chair in a small white room.

Raphael struggled against the bindings over her ankles, abdomen, wrists, and forehead, but this was Castiel’s element—the pupils of his eyes glowed white as he stalked toward her, predatory, controlling the dream to the extent of his ability.

“You will tell me everything about the coven’s actions regarding the use of demons as Familiars. You will give me the spell, and you will tell me how to break it.” He brokered no resistance, and Raphael’s eyes widened fearfully.

Dean actually felt _sorry_ for her, until he remembered that she was the one who had ordered Crowley to retrieve Castiel by any means necessary. Then, he just growled in support.

The noise was a mistake, though, as Raphael latched onto it and focused on Dean instead of Castiel.

“Ah, so it’s true. There was word that you’d Bonded. I suppose congratulations are in order. Nice to see that this one didn’t break.”

Castiel’s mask remained stoic, but his guilt over Balthazar’s death sliced through their Bond, and Dean winced. He clearly wasn’t as good at this whole interrogation thing as Castiel was, because Raphael was emboldened by Dean’s reaction.

“What was his name again? That pathetic rodent who thought he could play with the big boys? I can’t seem to recall. I do remember what happened to his soul, though, after the Bonding was broken. Poor man was destined for Hell all along.”

A vein twitching in Castiel’s jaw was the only warning before he smacked Raphael hard in the face.

Raphael spit blood from her lips and glared. She opened her mouth to speak, but Castiel snapped his fingers and her mouth vanished.

“You forget who is in charge here. _I’m_ the dreamwalker, not you, and I’ve had a lot of practice. You can’t keep anything from me.” With that, he pressed a finger to her forehead and she arched off the chair.

The walls of the room spun away to be replaced by the setting of a graveyard. Moonlight reflected off old headstones and a mausoleum with its door wide open, the glimpse inside revealing a pit in the ground that glowed reddish-orange. Plumes of black smoke burst from the hole, but then there were men and women standing in a circle around the mausoleum, chanting in a strange language as they raised joined hands. One of the smoke plumes, trapped by the ring of Witches, screeched and twisted through the air in an attempt to escape, but no matter what direction it chose, it bounced off an invisible barrier.

The ring of Witches slowly closed in. As they did, one Witch from outside the original circle darted under the arms of his comrades to close the mausoleum door, effectively cutting off the last of the smoke’s exits.

The smoke—what Dean now realized was a demon—howled with rage. Aside from the Witchs’ steady chanting, its unsettling cry was the only sound until he heard something that froze his heart in his chest.

“Please, no, please, _let me go_!”

Two Witches approached the circle, a ragged woman dragged between them. The woman was young with dark, curly hair. She struggled feebly against her impassive captors.

Dean felt sick as the two Witches stopped at the edge of the circle, and then shoved her through a gap until she fell inside the ring. Immediately, the demon swooped in, flying into the woman’s open mouth and filling her body until it bloated like a balloon before settling. She straightened, and her eyes were pure black.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

As soon as the demon stood in its new host, the Witches pressed together until the circle shrank, and the demon barely had enough room to stretch its arms. The Witch who had closed the mausoleum door faced the demon, who now appeared immobilized by the spellwork in the air. The Witch placed three fingers on the demon’s forehead, oddly reminiscent of Castiel’s move against Raphael, and there was a blinding flash of light.

Dean lifted his arm to ward off the brightness, but when he lowered it, the scene had changed yet again.

He and Castiel stood in a garden, where a group of children—one of them Raphael—were playing and laughing. It was a beautiful day, and Dean would’ve thought he was back in the real world if it weren’t for the fact that the sun emitted no warmth, and the childrens’ laughter echoed hollowly.

“Cas?” he said, and Castiel’s clammy hand found his. Dean turned to look at him and reeled back.

Castiel was pale and shaking, his eyes distant.

“Cas? What’s wrong? Come back to me. Come on, man.” Dean joined their other hands together and squeezed both in his. He pressed against Castiel until his Witch finally acknowledged him.

“I’m here,” Castiel said, but his voice broke, and he wouldn’t meet Dean’s anxious gaze. “I knew it was bad, but I didn’t realize….”

“Cas, we need to get out of here and tell people what we saw. How do we wake up?”

“I know, I know. Give me a second.” Castiel closed his eyes. He murmured words, and Dean sat up with a gasp in his chair in Bobby’s kitchen.

Bobby and Rufus, who’d been fumbling with their coffee machine, both jumped. Rufus’s coffee sloshed over the edge of his mug, and he cursed.

Dean tried to get his Witch’s attention, but Castiel stared at the table.

Bobby must’ve caught the anguish in Dean’s expression, for he forgot about the coffee machine entirely and frowned in concern.

“That bad, huh?”

Dean gulped in a breath and nodded, his eyes wide. “Worse,” he said.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in an astronomically good mood today for no reason, so here, have some porn! Oh, and another chapter! ;)

Research, research, research.

That was the takeaway from Dean’s first—and frankly, rather horrifying—dreamwalking experience with Castiel.

After getting some hot food in their bellies, Bobby and Rufus pulled the whole story of them, and then relayed it to Dean’s parents and their Witches. Then, the whole clan buried their noses in books to check that what Dean and Castiel saw was first possible, and then stoppable.

They figured out rather quickly that the big thing that went down on Samhain was the opening of a Devil’s Gate, which was what the mausoleum had been. It was far enough away that they hadn’t felt any of its ripple effects in Sioux Falls or back in Lawrence, but John had received word from some of his hunter buddies around the country that demons were starting to crop up more than ever—the ones the Angelus Coven had released, but been unable to trap in time.

The only good thing was that, though they appeared to know Castiel had Bonded, they didn’t know he’d done it with Dean, a Winchester. After all, Raphael hadn’t recognized him, so that was a small mercy.

Still, Castiel’s old coven was getting into some deep shit, and Dean knew it was grating on his Witch. A few nights later, Castiel told him, as they curled up in bed together, that he had escaped the coven before they could involve him in any of the rituals like the one they’d witnessed in Raphael’s mind. One of the lower members of the coven had accidentally let slip the secret of the higher-ups’ research into demons and Familiar Bonds, and that’s when Castiel abandoned ship. Gabriel had left even before then.

“But I should have stayed,” Castiel said. “If I’d been there longer, maybe I could’ve stopped them.” His guilt pulsed through their Bond, and Dean wrapped his arms around his Witch. Castiel had just showered, and he smelled like soap with a hint of the spiced deodorant he’d been wearing earlier.

“How?” Dean asked. “How could you have stopped them? You were one person, and you were Unbound. They would’ve killed you.”

“Better me than the innocent people they’re giving to the demons to possess.”

Dean let out a whine before he could help it. The thought of Castiel dead hurt, and his heart actually panged.

“Please don’t say that,” Dean said, as he nuzzled into Castiel’s neck. “I need you. God, without you….” He shuddered.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Castiel said as he squeezed Dean back. “I’m just….”

“What is it?” Dean asked, his voice muffled against the warmth of Castiel’s skin. Since their journey through Raphael’s head, Dean had sensed Castiel was keeping something from him. The few times he’d tried to pry through their Bond, Castiel had closed himself off and refused to even look at Dean for hours.

Castiel took a moment before speaking. “What Raphael said, about Balthazar. She said he’s in Hell.”

“Come on, that can’t be true.”

“Can’t it? Look at everything else the coven has done. It’s all dark magic. They’ve opened a Devil’s Gate! They’re already associating with Hell, and they might’ve been in contact with demons long before I was even aware. It would’ve been easy for them to cast Balthazar’s soul down there.”

“You really think they would do that, just because you guys tried to Bond?”

“I don’t know. They’re capable of more than I realized. At this point, I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“So you’re thinking we should check, somehow? See if he’s down there, and if we can get him out?”

Castiel let out a helpless noise. “I don’t know! We have to stop the demons, right? And we have to stop the coven. Balthazar can’t be the priority right now—”

“Bullshit. He was your friend. You and me, we’ll do some extra research, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

Castiel released a long breath, and his whole body sagged into the bed as tension left him. “You’re too good for me.”

“That’s only because you’re too good for me.”

Castiel huffed. “We’re both ridiculous, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

Their pillow talk was interrupted by the chiming of Dean’s cell phone. He extricated himself from Castiel and rolled over to grab it on the nightstand. It was Sam.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Sorry it’s so late over there,” Sam said, and he sounded exhausted. “But this was too important to wait.”

Dean sat up with a frown. “I’m putting you on speaker phone. What’d you find?”

Castiel flipped on the light and joined Dean.

Sam sighed. “I think…well, maybe you should talk.” The phone rustled and a new voice came on.

“Dean? Cas?” Sarah asked.

“We’re here. What’s going on?” Dean said.

“We found something, something big.” She drew in a breath and then released it. “So I’m in an ancient study’s class that has a secret side-session for Witches, and…okay, I was partnered with this kid named Kevin. He’s a freshman and really good at translating. Anyways, we’re working with this book, right? Super old, with string bindings and leather paper, and it mentions a tablet on demons.”

“A tablet?” Dean repeated, exchanging confused looks with Castiel.

“It’s a stone carving of the Word of God,” Sam filled in, as Sarah must’ve switched it to speaker phone as well. “They say that the scribe of God, Metatron, wrote down all the rules of creation while God was making everything.”

Castiel squinted at the phone. “So what does this tablet say about demons?”

Sarah spoke in a serious tone, “It says how we can destroy them, and how we can seal them up by closing the Gates of Hell. Forever.”

Her declaration left them all in stunned silence.

Dean’s mouth gaped. “That’s…how do you know it’s… Is it true?”

“Kevin says it is. That’s part of his magic. He can connect with ancient words and sense their truth and power. He says it’s legit.”

“Holy…” Dean breathed out.

“So how is it done? What are the steps?” Castiel asked.

Dean glanced over at his Witch’s grim yet determined face. “Hold up. You can’t be thinking we should do this. I bet it’s dangerous, and there are probably all kinds of crazy side-effects. This is Hell we’re talking about.”

“But we could stop them, all at once. The coven, the demons.” Castiel stared at Dean imploringly. “We could save people.”

“Or we could die trying.”

“You’d rather let them suffer?”

“I don’t want anyone to suffer, but I just got used to the idea that I’m gonna live, okay?” Dean hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but he couldn’t take it back now. He felt his face flush with embarrassment.

“So, um, yeah, that was the big news,” Sam said after an awkward pause, where Castiel just stared at Dean, his expression unreadable.

“I’ll talk to Kevin again,” Sarah added. “It looks like there are three steps, so we’ll try to get more details. We’ll be in touch, okay? Don’t do anything rash.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up.

Dean returned his phone to the nightstand. “Guess we should hit the hay now, huh?” He lay back and closed his eyes.

Castiel didn’t respond. Dean silently hoped he’d just turn off the light so they could deal with the aftermaths of this conversation in the morning.

No such luck.

The bed shifted as Castiel approached him, and Dean’s eyes flew open when his Witch straddled him.

“Please don’t think me ungrateful,” Castiel said, and emotions coursed through their Bond as he leaned over Dean, using his arms to brace himself so their faces were only inches apart. “You mean everything to me.”

Dean met Castiel’s eyes, his heart pounding faster with his Witch’s warmth looming above him. “I know. I just don’t want you to think I’m a dick for not wanting to help people. Because I do, I just….”

“I know,” Castiel said, and he bent down to press his lips against Dean’s. He pulled back. “You’ve always helped people, and I’ve always run. But now it’s my turn to be better, to be more like you.”

Dean felt the utter sincerity of Castiel’s words flow through him, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed around tears. “Fuck, Cas. You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? You know it’s how I feel. And now…I want to make you feel good, Dean. You deserve it. You’re everything. Can I…can I touch you?”

Dean’s breaths came out as pants, and he nodded. “Yes. God, yes. Please.”

Castiel sat back on his haunches and ran his hands up under Dean’s shirt. His palms were smooth, and they made Dean shiver as they ghosted along his skin. Dean’s t-shirt bunched under his armpits, and he sat up to tug it off and fling it away.

Half-naked under his Witch’s gaze, Dean felt…wanted, more than anything, which he hadn’t expected. But the way their Bond worked, he could feel Castiel’s lust, could read the equal parts hunger and fondness in his eyes as he viewed Dean’s form. He knew, without Castiel having to say it, that Castiel found him beautiful.

Part of Dean wanted to turn from the praise, hide his head from the adoration Castiel poured into him as he touched his chest again. But the shame he had once felt for accepting his own goodness shrank in the sheer affection Castiel conveyed through their Bond. It wasn’t only physical—it was emotional—and it filled Dean up until his heart felt like it would burst.

 _Kiss me_ , Dean thought, and Castiel obliged. This time, Castiel let his weight settle more on top of him, and Dean could feel Castiel’s arousal close to his own. It was hot, and had Dean hardening quickly.

 _My neck_ , Dean thought, and Castiel kissed his way down to the sensitive spot Dean broadcast through their link, a spot that had him opening his mouth as he threw his head back, his body tingling with pleasure. His toes curled as Castiel laved at it, first with his lips and tongue, and then with the gentle scraping of his teeth.

 _Tell me what you want_ , Castiel said, and Dean moaned.

_Just don’t stop._

Castiel obeyed. His kissed and traced every inch of skin on Dean’s chest, from his nipples—which caused Dean to gasp—to the muscles of his stomach that spasmed with even the lightest brush of Castiel’s fingertips.

_So many freckles._

Castiel’s errant thought filtered through their Bond. Dean huffed and finally relaxed. Castiel’s touches had caused him to tense and subconsciously arch up toward him, seeking friction.

“Sorry,” Castiel said, as Dean sagged into the bed. Dean was pleased to see Castiel was just as flushed and breathless as he felt.

“Nothing to apologize for.”

Castiel paused to sit up and redistribute his weight. He stretched an arm and then leg with a grimace. “Cramp,” he said.

“We can stop, you know,” Dean said, even though he really didn’t want to. His cock was hard and obviously tenting his pajama pants, so he hoped Castiel would keep going, especially with the way his Witch seemed equally interested. Dean not-so-subtly checked out Castiel’s package, though Castiel smirked when he caught him looking.

“What do you want, Dean?” he asked again.

Dean was tempted to duck his head and blush, but he forced himself to meet Castiel’s eyes.

“Fuck me.”

Castiel groaned and closed his eyes. “I don’t think I’m going to last that long.”

“Then I wanna see you. Wanna touch you.”

“Are you sure that’s what you—”

“Shut up and take off your pants,” Dean interrupted with a growl.

Now, Castiel was the one to follow orders. He slid off the bed and slowly undressed, first his shirt, then his pants. He crossed his arms over his chest, as if embarrassed, but Dean clucked his tongue.

“Nuh-uh. Let me look at you. All of you.” _But only if you’re comfortable_ , he added mentally.

That small reassurance was just what Castiel needed. His boxers pooled at his ankles, and he stepped out of them.

Dean just barely refrained from whistling appreciatively. His Witch was goddamn hot. He was more toned than Dean was, and tanner, and his cock was nice and thick as it curved to the left.

Just how Dean liked it.

Dean crooked his finger in a ‘come here’ gesture, so Castiel scooted onto the bed and then crawled toward him.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Dean said.

Castiel preened under the compliment, and Dean wondered if anyone had ever told him that before. He had to make this good for him.

Gently, Dean switched their positions so he was on top, then he dropped to his knees between Castiel’s legs. His hands slithered down the length of Castiel’s body, and stopped at his thighs, where Castiel twitched in eagerness. Dean slid down to cup Castiel’s balls, and then he leaned forward to take the rest of him in his mouth.

 _DEAN!_ Castiel practically screamed as Dean suctioned around him. Castiel smelled and tasted good—heady and musky with a hint of spice. Dean sucked and bobbed his head, using his tongue to flutter over the slit of Castiel’s cock. His jaw started to ache at the size and weight of his Witch, but Dean just concentrated on the feelings of intense pleasure that zinged through their Bond from Castiel. His Witch was very much enjoying himself, and Dean hummed around him.

He’d never had sex with a Bond in place before, and for a split second, Dean wondered what it was like for Witches and Familiars that found other partners. If a Familiar was getting it on with their mate, did their Witches get feedback from that and suddenly find themselves horny? Dean would have to get Sam drunk and then ask him, because there was no way he was asking his parents or Bobby.

Now was not the time to be thinking of Bobby, Jesus Christ.

Dean returned to the present, where Castiel was making aborted attempts to thrust into his mouth. Dean had clamped a hand down on his hips though, preventing movement. Still, Castiel shuddered and sighed, his brows pinched and his mouth parted. He was a gorgeous wreck.

“Wait, I’m going to…Dean!”

Dean pulled off in time for Castiel to come all over his own belly and a bit on Dean’s face. Dean was about to laugh about the strand that dangled from his lips, when Castiel’s orgasm hit him through their Bond. He’d been hard throughout giving his Witch a blowjob, but not close to coming. At least, not until Castiel’s feelings sucker-punched him into a simultaneous orgasm that reverberated back through their Bond until Dean couldn’t distinguish his feelings from Castiel’s.

It went on for what felt like forever, and Dean was completely wrung out by the time he came down from it. He collapsed beside Castiel, who was staring at the ceiling, panting.

“Oh my god,” Dean breathed.

“I wanted to make _you_ feel good,” Castiel said with a pout.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll be able to ‘feel good’ again for a while. Holy mother.”

Castiel burst out laughing, and his pure joy made Dean laugh, too, until they were both clutching their sides with tears streaming from their eyes. Castiel turned to Dean, and leaned in to lick the come off his face before kissing him deeply. He pulled back to head to the bathroom and clean himself off, and when he returned, Dean snuggled into him.

“I’m still not sure about this tablet thing,” Dean said, hating himself but needing to say it.

Castiel sighed. “I know. I promise I won’t do anything on my own. I’ll talk to you first, okay?” He pressed a kiss to the top of Dean’s head.

Dean grunted. “Yeah, you better, or I’ll kick your ass.” He closed his eyes and breathed in his Witch, feeling more comfortable and more peaceful than he had in a long, long time. It felt so undeniably right to be in Castiel’s arms. God, how Dean had longed for this without even knowing what it could be like.

He fell asleep warm and safe, the breaths of his Witch gently caressing his hair.


	23. Chapter 23

“Well _somebody’s_ happy.”

“Hm?” Dean glanced up at Benny from the salad he was prepping. The cook’s expression was amused, his lips quirked and his eyes twinkling.

Dean frowned. “What?”

Benny shrugged and returned to the grill, where he was roasting vegetables in tin foil. “Nothing. You’re just whistling an awful lot, and I know what that means. Seems to me you had a good time last night.” He looked up and winked.

Dean blushed. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Laugh it up.”

“Naw. I’m happy for you. Glad to see both of you finally pulled your heads outta your asses.”

“Dude, it was more than that. You’re not a Witch or Familiar, so you don’t know what it’s like in our community. Usually Bonds aren’t like that.”

“Why not?”

“They just aren’t. And I had to make sure everyone was cool with it.”

“And they are, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So it’s all good now, huh?”

Dean grinned, but his smile faded. “Yeah, sorta. Except for all the demons and Castiel’s evil coven and lots of innocent people getting killed, but you know.”

Benny heaved a sigh and grabbed a bowl of marinade from the refrigerator. “Brother, is there a reason you can’t be happy for just one second?”

“I am happy!” Dean said. “There’s just a lot of stuff going on right now. I’ll be even more happy when it’s over.”

“Hey, Dean,” Ellen said, as she poked her head into the kitchen. Dean knew what she was going to say before she said it. “Your Witch is here, and he wants to talk to you.”

 _Everything okay?_ Dean asked through their Bond, as he removed his apron and hung it on its hook.

Outside, Castiel was seated at the bar, a piece of paper clutched in his hands. It was still early, so The Roadhouse wasn’t open yet, and he was the only patron. Only Ellen moved about, checking the tables and making sure each had enough napkins and condiments.

“I’m fine,” Castiel said, in response to Dean’s telepathic question. “I just wanted to speak with you.”

Dean stopped across from him and leaned against the bar. “Yeah?”

“I just got off the phone with Sam.” When Dean frowned, Castiel added, “I got his number off your phone before. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No. But…I didn’t get anything.” Dean pulled out his phone and stared at the blank screen. No text messages, no missed calls. He returned it to his pocket, somewhat irritated. “So what’d he want?”

“He and Sarah found out what the three tasks are, er, trials, I guess they’re called.” Castiel unfolded the piece of paper, and slid it to Dean.

Dean braced himself. These were the trials to close Hell, forever. “Okay, first one…” He read the paper. “ _Kill a Hellhound and bathe in its blood_.” He wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. Gross.”

“Go on.”

“Number two: _Save an innocent soul from Hell and deliver it to Heaven_.” Dean glanced at Castiel. “Balthazar?”

Castiel’s mouth was a thin line. “Yes, that’s what I was thinking, too. I’m going to try a locator spell to see if his soul is really down there, but… I have a feeling. This can’t be a coincidence.”

Dean nodded, grim. “And the last one is: _Cure a demon_. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said. “But Gabriel agreed to help us, if we decide to go forward with this.”

“Oh, so he’s in the game now? He actually wants to play with the rest of us?”

Castiel scowled. “The coven is after him, too. It’s not his fault he’s better at hiding.”

“He’s been here for over a year. He could’ve done something.”

“Maybe he did, and you just weren’t aware of it.”

Dean closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “Fine. I just…let me think about this for a second. I know you want to do this, but we shouldn’t just jump into it. There could be consequences. Actually, there have to be consequences when it’s something this big.”

Castiel hung his head. “I know. But the longer we wait….”

Dean sighed, and was about to speak again when the door of The Roadhouse banged open and none other than Gabriel entered, his face haggard and pale. He staggered inside and would’ve collapsed if it weren’t for the nearby table that barely held his weight.

Castiel flew to his side, and Dean hurried around the bar to join him.

“What is it?” Castiel asked.

Gabriel gasped for breath and then winced. “They…they have Kali. The demons. The coven, they found us.”

Ellen, who was hovering behind Dean, met his eyes and nodded. “I’ll call Bobby,” she said, and raced toward the phone in the back.

Castiel guided his brother to a chair, and Gabriel sat, but not before flinching again. He wrung his hands together and trembled.

“They’re hurting her,” he whispered brokenly. Dean’s heart ached in sympathy.

“Tell us what happened,” Castiel said, and Gabriel related in chunks how it had all been fine, and Kali was off doing her own thing as she usually did. They’d been well within their Bond’s range, which is why Gabriel practically collapsed when demons suddenly surrounded Kali and then dragged her away.

“One second she was there, the next, _poof_! And I don’t know where she is now, but she can’t be far because I can still _feel_ her and…” Gabriel cringed, and tears flooded his eyes. “They’re torturing her.”

“For what?” Castiel asked. “If they wanted you dead, they could just kill her.”

Gabriel glared at him. “Thanks for that, bro. You think I know what they want?”

“Maybe they’re just toying with her, like Crowley did with Cas,” Dean said. “It’s not like the coven’s really got the demons under control.”

Castiel nodded. “That’s probably more likely. Gabriel, is there a tracker on her at all? Anything to help direct a locator spell?”

Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut, and tears leaked out of the corners. “I…I don’t… I think so, but I…” He swayed where he sat, and Dean felt cold inside. For something to affect a Witch like this through their Familiar, it couldn’t be good.

“Sam also mentioned something that might help,” Castiel said, and Dean frowned at him.

“Since when are you so chummy with my brother?”

“Since now, when there are bigger things going on,” Castiel answered, his tone cold. “Sam said that, along with the tasks, the tablet also contained information for a weapon against demons.”

“You mean besides exorcisms?”

Castiel nodded. “It’s like a bomb, apparently.”

“A bomb? So we’re just gonna nuke a bunch of innocent people who happened to get possessed?”

“No. Of course not. But we shouldn’t write it off. We might need to use it, even if it’s a last resort.”

“I’m not killing anything with a _bomb_. We’ll do exorcisms and save the hosts. It’s not their fault they got wrapped up in all of this.”

 _You’re truly a righteous man, Dean Winchester_ , Castiel thought at him, a sad smile on his face.

 _I try_ , Dean returned, and their gazes focused on Ellen, who reentered the room.

“Bobby’s on his way,” she said. “He’s bringing the ingredients for scrying and a few different locator spells. Can I get him anything?” She jerked her head at Gabriel, whose face was blank and gaze unfocused.

“Water, please. Thank you,” Castiel said. “Is there a room upstairs we can use?”

“Be my guest. Just please don’t make a mess with all your…Witchy things,” Ellen said, her lips twitching.   

“We won’t,” Castiel said, and with Dean’s help, they hefted Gabriel up by the armpits and transferred him upstairs into a community room lined with wooden panels. A shaggy carpet absorbed their footfalls, and they deposited Gabriel onto one of the two sagging leather couches against the wall.

“You better keep your promise, or Ellen will skin you,” Dean said.

“That would be a severe overreaction on her part,” Castiel said. “Besides, magic’s already been done up here. Can’t you feel the traces of it?”

Now that Castiel mentioned it, Dean could. He’d hung out up here before being Bound, but had never sensed anything. With his full senses intact, though, the lingering magic in the air tingled in his nose and made him want to sneeze.

“So what should I do?” Dean asked. Spellcraft wasn’t really his forte; he left that to the Witches, and didn’t want to be part of it if he didn’t have to be. His kind of magic was best served on the field.

But Castiel was already in his own head, muttering words under his breath and trying alternatively to coax more information out of his comatose brother. Eventually, it came out that there was a tracker on Kali, though it was weak since they hadn’t updated it in a while.

“That’s good, that’ll really narrow it down,” Castiel said, pacing the length of the room.

“Sure I can’t just transform and sniff her down?”

Castiel paused and finally seemed to remember Dean was there. “No, that would take too long. Once Bobby’s here, we can better pinpoint the location. But,” he added, when Dean opened his mouth to protest, “We will need you to scope it out so we know what to expect.”

“Ah. Need me to get my hawk eyes on?” Dean said, and Castiel smiled.

“Exactly.”

Less than an hour later found Dean soaring the air currents, his eyes filtering in the stream of data from what moved far below.

Once Bobby and Rufus arrived, they’d worked with Castiel to perform a hybrid locator-tracker spell to find Kali. They’d been able to determine her location on a small plot of land in the woods way outside of town. Now, Dean was on the lookout for a building in the middle of nowhere, yet surrounded by activity. As he banked to the right, he saw it.

The cabin’s roof was mossy, and the area surrounding it was overgrown, but despite its abandoned appearance, four people patrolled the outside. They carried no weapons, and though Dean was too far away to tell for sure, he would bet every last penny of his savings that they were demons.

Damn, though; four demons outside, and who knew how many inside. The only weapon they had against demons was an exorcism. Otherwise, they could fling salt or holy water, but that would only hurt them for a second.

What could they do?

Dean screeched and floated farther down, trying to make out any more details before he had to fly back and report on what he’d seen.

But he wasn’t alone in the sky.

A whirring noise hit him, and he craned his neck back just in time to see a column of smoke rushing at him from above. He dove, careening out of its way as it hurdled through the space he’d previously occupied. Dean flapped to stay airborne as the smoke pivoted and then roared back at him.  

He dove again, and then veered sharply to the left. He was in the form of a red-tailed hawk, and speed and precision was second nature. The demon pursuing him, though, didn’t need to obey the rules of flight, and it charged through the air without heed to the wind or any kind of current. It defied gravity as it charged at Dean, who just barely ducked out of the way, but not before it managed to clip his wing. Immediately, debilitating frost spread through the limb so Dean couldn’t move it. He tried to stay balanced by spreading out his other wing, but it was too late.

Dean spun as he dropped through the air in a nosedive. He kept angling his good wing to slow the descent, but the force was too strong, and his frozen wing kept catching updrafts that sent him spiraling through the air.

All too soon, the canopies of trees appeared beneath him, and Dean closed his eyes. He frantically shot Castiel images of what he had seen and experienced, hoping that despite the distance, his Witch would still be warned of what happened.

Then he hit the branches, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me some cliffhangers, apparently.


	24. Chapter 24

Dean awoke with a cry and was instantly engulfed in pain. His whole body ached, and the wing he hadn’t been able to retract in the fall had clearly broken in several places.

“Ah, he’s awake,” came a female voice.

Dean forced his eyes open and found himself still in hawk form on a table in a dingy, wooden room—probably the cabin he’d spotted before. A woman with flaming red hair and a leather outfit stood in front of him, flanked by two men and one other woman. Dean recognized the blond man from the ritual he’d seen in Raphael’s mind, and the other woman was the demon the man had Bound to him. The second man, whom Dean had never seen before, looked shockingly like a younger version of his father.

His father’s look-alike stepped forward. “Good work, Abaddon.”

“Of course, Master,” Abaddon, the red-haired woman, said sweetly. She batted her eyelashes as she moved out of the way.

The man approached the table, his steely eyes on Dean. “Transform so we may speak.”

Dean played dumb, and merely chirped in response.

The man frowned. “I know you can understand me. Transform. Now.” When Dean did nothing more than cock his head at him, the man turned to glare at Abaddon. “He is a Familiar, right, and not some brainless bird you chased out of the sky?”

“Would I lie to you?” Abaddon simpered.

The man sighed. “Lucifer? What do you think?”

The man from the ritual, Lucifer, joined him to stare down at Dean. He shrugged. “Beats me.”

If this man was Lucifer, then the other had to be…Michael. And though Dean was shocked to come face to face with the heads of the Angelus Coven, what amazed him more was that they couldn’t tell if he was a Familiar or not. Even when he was Unbound, he’d had enough juice left to tell that Castiel was a Witch, or that Kali was a Bound Familiar. So what was going on with Michael and Lucifer that they couldn’t even sense their own kind anymore?

The other woman sidled up to her Witch, and Lucifer draped an arm across her shoulders.

“What do you think, Meg dearest?” he asked.

“Oh, he’s a Familiar alright. And I can make him transform, if that’s what you want, Master.” She practically purred her words, and Lucifer drank them up.

“Do it,” he said, but Dean didn’t want a dirty demon touching him. He focused his magic around the pain, and then sat on the table in human form, his legs crossed.

He was pleased that Michael and Lucifer recoiled, though Meg and Abaddon wore matching smirks.

“Surprise,” Dean said. He would’ve done jazz hands if both his arms had cooperated. As it was, his right arm was misshapen and bruised, and Dean didn’t want to look at it longer than he had to. It felt like a bone was poking at the skin, just beneath the surface. Man, what was with him and breaking his arms nowadays?

“Told you he was a Familiar,” Abaddon said.

“Yes, good. Now.” Michael eyed Dean, and then frowned. “What’s your name?”

So they still didn’t recognize him. That was good.

“I ain’t sayin’ nothin’,” Dean said with a fake twang.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Lucifer said. “We have ways of making you talk.”

“Then you’re gonna hafta exercise them, gentlemen. Like I said, I ain’t sayin’—”

He got cut off when Lucifer smashed a fist into his face. Dean saw stars, and his jaw throbbed.

Lucifer grabbed his ruined arm and that finally got to Dean, who let out a pained grunt.

“Do you know a Witch named Castiel?” Michael asked, as Lucifer relented slightly.

Dean tried to breathe through his nose. “That’s a weird name. Never heard of i—” He hissed when Lucifer squeezed his arm again, then let go.

“What about a Witch named Gabriel?”

Ah, so Kali hadn’t broken. Damn, that was awesome. And if she could hold on and protect her Witch’s identity, so could Dean.

“Don’t know of any Witch by that name, sorry compadre,” Dean panted.

“What about your own Witch’s name?”

“B-Barry,” Dean said. “His name’s Barry. He’s just a loser, really, but—”

Meg slapped him fully across the cheek. She was so powerful that Dean’s head whipped around and something cracked in his neck. His eyes watered.

“He’s lying, obviously,” she said. “I say we break his other arm. Then the poor birdie really won’t be able to fly.”

“I like that idea,” Abaddon said with a grin, and Dean steeled himself.

“No,” Michael said, and anger flashed over Abaddon’s face.

“Why not?”

“I can’t…I can’t do this right now.” Michael stalked over to the corner of the room, where a foldable chair was propped against the wall. He set it up and sagged onto it, his elbows on his thighs and his head resting in the palms of his hands. Dark bags hung under his eyes as he closed them. “It’s getting worse.”

As Dean looked on, he realized what he was witnessing: severe magical depletion. So it was true that their Bonds with the demons weren’t working right. Michael didn’t look like he had much magic left, and though Lucifer appeared healthier, that was only in comparison to his brother. If Dean had seen him on the street, he would’ve thought Lucifer had just been released from the hospital after a debilitating disease.

The question was, if their Bonds really were weak, why were the demons still cooperating? At least, Meg and Abaddon were. Crowley hated being tied to Raphael, but Lucifer and Michael’s demons appeared perfectly content in their positions of power. Was that all it was that appealed to them about this situation—power? Or were the demons getting something out of this, too? They were Bound, so they still had to obey orders to some extent.

But if their Witches died, what happened to them?

Dean sucked in a breath. Shit. Abaddon and Meg were just biding their time until their Witches died, and then they would be free to wreak havoc on the world. They’d needed the Angelus Coven to release them from Hell, and since the binding wasn’t strong, they’d actually outlive their Witches.

Not only that, but since being Bound, they’d probably been exposed to magic and who knows how many obscure relics and texts that the Angelus Coven had in their possession. The demons just had to wait it out, and then once their Witches died, they would be able to use what they’d learned to become more powerful than ever.

And what if they found a way to use magic to cancel the wards against them?

They’d become invincible.

Suddenly, closing the Gates of Hell didn’t sound like such a bad idea. If Dean survived this, he’d have to have a long chat with Castiel.

But for now, Michael appeared done with him. He waved his hand, and Abaddon grabbed Dean’s bad arm, causing him to wince. Despite his protests, she proved to be strong, and dragged him toward a door which led down to a basement.

The walls there were stone, and the ceiling was covered in cobwebs. There were no windows, and the only light came from a naked fluorescent bulb. Dean could barely breathe the stale air, but he didn’t have much choice when Abaddon shoved him toward a side room, where Kali was handcuffed to a bunch of pipes. She was bloody and bruised, but she glared in defiance, a spark still in her eyes.

Abaddon handcuffed Dean’s wrists and then looped the chain around the same pipe as Kali. Dean held back a pained cry at the way the handcuffs chafed his broken arm when he was forced to keep it elevated.

The demon smirked. “Don’t even think about transforming. The handcuffs are magic, and you’ll be electrocuted if you try. That one already singed some of her pretty hair.” Abaddon tossed a smirk at Kali, who growled at her. “Well, ta-ta then. Enjoy your stay.” She left them alone as she returned the way she’d come. Her footsteps thudded up the wooden staircase, and then the door slammed.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Kali said, once it was quiet.

Dean huffed. “Well, pardon me for trying to save your ass.”

“It’s dangerous. You’ll get our Witches killed.”

“Or we’ll get ourselves rescued. I mean, did you see Michael and Lucifer up there? They look like a strong gust of wind could knock them over.”

“They might be weak, but their demons aren’t.”

“Well, I have faith in my Witch. He’ll make it through.”

Kali pursed her lips, which were split and crusty with dried blood. “Gabriel is not a fighter.”

“But he’ll fight for you.”

Kali said nothing, though Dean could sense she was trying to hide her pride at that comment.

“So what’re your thoughts on getting out ourselves?”

Kali scoffed and purposely rattled her chains. “I have no thoughts. I’ve tried everything except breaking my hands to slip them out.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t have enough magic to start healing myself after, so I wouldn’t be able to run far.”

“What if I did it?”

Kali peeked an eye open.

“My arm’s already broken,” Dean continued. “And I could transform into a bird and ride on your back.”

Kali’s lips twitched. “You could.”

“So you’d allow it?”

“You think you can break your hands?”

Dean shot her a falsely confident grin. “Sure. How hard could it be?”

Kali opened both eyes fully and shook her head. “I don’t envy you. I just wish I could give you some magic.”

Dean shrugged, but he appreciated the offer. Unfortunately, magic transfers only worked between Witches and Familiars, not Familiars and Familiars.

Dean closed his eyes and drew a long, slow breath to brace himself.

“Wait,” Kali said. “How am I going to get out after you free yourself?”

Dean opened his eyes and scanned the room. His gaze lit upon a pair of rusty bolt cutters dangling from a hook on the far wall. “Think you can use those?” he asked, and Kali followed his line of sight.

“Get them in my hands and I’ll make it work.”

“Awesome,” Dean said. He blew out a breath and then focused on his body. He imagined that his fingers were numb, and that his wrists tingled but then faded from all sensation. His hands were no longer attached to him, so it wouldn’t hurt at all to break them.

He started with his broken arm. The bones were already loose beneath his skin, so what did a few more breaks matter? Dean used his good hand to help clench down and pop the bones of his fingers loose.

He hissed at the white flares of pain and blinked around them, trying to keep calm. He hoped that Castiel wasn’t freaking out too badly right now, though he could probably feel Dean’s pain just like Gabriel felt Kali’s. Thinking of Castiel actually helped, and Dean was able to shimmy the handcuff off his wrist, even as swollen as it was.

Kali hummed in what sounded like approval, so Dean got to work on his other hand. This one was harder, but only because his pain tolerance was diminishing. With a crack and a pop, he was able to free himself completely. The handcuffs rattled as they swung against the wall, now empty.

What he was left with were horribly mangled hands, and one grossly deformed arm. His magic swarmed to the injuries, but setting bones took time, and the process was slower and weaker without his Witch there. At least he was free.

It still hurt like a bitch, though.

Dean hustled over to the rusty bolt cutters and discovered that he hadn’t thought this plan through as much as he could’ve. With his fingers useless, he couldn’t grip anything. How would he pry the tool off the wall?

“Use your elbows,” Kali said.

Dean made a face, but then tried it as best he could, seeing as he had only one mostly-functioning arm. He felt ridiculous, but he managed to clutch the bolt cutters between his elbows—though not without a grunt of pain from his broken bones—and carefully angle them off the wall. Of course, they plummeted to the ground as soon as he liberated them. Dean winced, but luck was on their side—the floors were made of dirt, and they muffled the sound. He kicked the bolt cutters over to Kali, who used her legs to raise the tool high enough to grab with her hands. Then it was like she blurred into motion.

In one second, she was handcuffed but with the bolt cutters clasped tightly in her right hand, the next, the chain had snapped in two. Dean wasn’t sure how she’d managed it, but that’s probably because he was a little woozy from the pain leaking back into his consciousness. With his adrenaline fading, he felt like crap.  

God, when this was over, he was gonna freaking cuddle Castiel for a whole week and no one could stop him.

“Whoa, there,” Kali said, and Dean blinked around spots in his vision. She steadied him as he swayed, and helped ease him to the ground.

Dean sat and tried to recover as Kali cut the handcuffs themselves, easier now that she’d gotten rid of the chain. Thank goodness the bolt cutters were sharp enough.

“Now what?” he asked.

Kali grinned, and her eyes flashed to a feline’s. “Now we dig. Your legs still work, right?”

As it turned out, Kali had already plotted out this part of their escape. She transformed into a lioness and pounced at the dirt near the corner of the room.

Dean walked over as a human, then plopped down as a Husky and helped shovel away her piles with his back legs. It wasn’t easy, since he couldn’t rest any weight on his front two legs, but he did what he could.

It seemed to take forever, though Kali wasted no time with her powerful muscles. They had no idea when the demons would check on them again, and Dean kept his ears perked for any sign that they were about to be discovered, but again, luck appeared to favor them. That, and it seemed that there was an intense argument going on upstairs, if the loud voices filtering down to them were any indication

An hour in, and Kali had just managed to breach the outside. She was breathing hard, and when she changed back to her human form, sweat beaded her skin. She wiped her face and smudged dirt across her cheek.

“The hole outside’s not big, but I can be a kitten to fit. You?”

Dean transformed back into a human and stared at her. “Ever hear of a hummingbird?”

Kali smirked. “Good. Come on.”

They both transformed into medium-sized breeds to crawl through the tunnel Kali had dug—she was in the form of some small, spindly cat with a tan pelt, while Dean was a Dachshund (a pathetic one who kind of wormed his way through, rather than use all four paws).

 

At the hole, they both became as small as possible to shove out into the night.

Dean didn’t even try to fly as a hummingbird.

He merely hopped through the hole until he reached Kali as a tiny bundle of fur. She knelt down and jerked her head at her back, so Dean jumped up onto it. She grew beneath him into a big cat—Dean assumed something like a puma or cheetah, so she could run fast.

 

He, in turn, became a Pine Warbler, since he knew they had strong feet to latch onto any perch. He dug his claws into her fur, and that seemed to show her he was ready, as Kali took off at a sprint.

The demons patrolling must not have expected to see animals, as Kali and Dean weren’t spotted until they’d hit the forest. Then a shout went up, and the demons gave chase. But as fast as they were, even in smoke form, the creatures from Hell couldn’t compete against an animal bred for speed. It was all Dean could do to hold on while the rush of air threatened to rip him away.

Kali raced through the forest like she did it all the time, expertly maneuvering around trees and obstacles, and changing direction at the drop of a hat. They made hardly any noise, which was insanely cool, unlike the demons behind them that blindly crashed through the forest. Huh. Apparently they couldn’t see as well in the dark. Who knew?

Speaking of, Dean couldn’t see shit. He just trusted that Kali knew where she was going, and hung on tight. Luckily that occupied much of his thoughts, so he only registered his pain from a distance. Still, it throbbed, and every movement jarred his fragile, broken wings.

Which was why, when Kali eventually stopped, Dean felt like he’d been hit by Charlie’s car again, only she had backed up and run him over again and again. Distantly, he heard voices and what sounded like chanting, and then his Bond filled with none other than Cas, who was worried as all hell. And as soon as his Witch scooped him up, cradling him in his large, warm hands, Dean finally let himself pass out.

He knew he was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My semester's over in a few days, so I'll finally be able to work on wrapping up this story! Hurray I made it!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this very fluffy chapter! :)

Dean was very warm, and someone was murmuring what sounded like a poem in a very quiet, lulling voice. Dean sighed in contentment, though it came out as a chirp since he was still in the form of a Pine Warbler. He fluffed up his feathers and snuggled into the warmth of what felt like a mound of soft blankets.

“Dean?”

Dean cracked his eyes open to find his Witch’s body curved around his makeshift nest, his eyes warm and gentle. Castiel looked huge to Dean in his tiny body.

“How do you feel?”

Dean evaluated himself. The intense pain was gone, though echoes of it remained when he straightened his wings. The bones had shifted back into position, but the muscles around them were still weak.

_Much better. Still a tad sore, so I don’t think I can fly yet._

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed in relief. “I’m glad.” He opened his eyes with a small smile, and brought a finger over to gingerly stroke Dean’s head. “I felt your pain and…I was so scared for you.”

Dean shimmied out of the nest so he could nudge Castiel’s hand. His Witch instantly cupped it around him, and Dean snuggled under the warmth radiating from his body. Castiel’s hand was like a cocoon.

_Is Kali alright?_

“Yes, she and Gabriel have been reunited as well. They’re in the other spare bedroom. Oh, we’re in Bobby’s house by the way. And I imagine she and Gabriel are still sleeping. She looked on the brink of total exhaustion when we got to you both.”

_Well she was the muscle behind everything, so that’s not surprising._

Castiel curled up so Dean was nestled right against him.

_What time is it?_

“Hmm. Probably close to noon.”

Dean’s eyes flew open and he squeaked in shock. _What? Really?_

“Yes, really. And don’t worry about anything. Bobby’s already spoken with Ellen. Not like you would’ve been able to work anyways, with your hands and….” Castiel shivered and squeezed Dean even closer to him. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

Dean tutted. _Cas, are you seriously blaming yourself for this? It’s not your fault._

“But it was my idea for you to scope things out.”

_Yeah, and shit happens._

“I don’t want to be away from you ever again. We need to find a way to work together in close proximity.”

While Dean warmed at Castiel’s words, he knew that just wasn’t realistic. _We can’t be near each other 100% of the time._ He paused. _No matter how much I’d want that, too. I mean, think about it. We’d probably want to kill each other after a few days._

“Never.”

_You know what I mean._

“I do, but still. I’m tired of seeing you get hurt.”

 _It comes with the job, and now that I have you, I heal much faster. It’s not a big deal._ Dean hesitated. _Besides, I think I know a way we can stop being in danger all the time. You were right about closing the Gates of Hell._

Castiel sucked in a breath. “You want to go through with it?”

_I don’t know if we’ve got any other choice. The Angelus Coven is just going to keep summoning demons unless we close the doors, and the demons are going to keep getting stronger and then burst free once their Witches die._

Castiel frowned. “What?”

Dean filled him in on what he had witnessed with Michael and Lucifer, and what he had surmised about their situation. It certainly wasn’t a giant leap of logic to think that the demons would take advantage of the weakened coven, as if they had their own agenda planned all along.

“So Crowley is impatient, and just wants to break his Bond faster, before Raphael succumbs to magical depletion,” Castiel said, after absorbing the new information.

_That’s my guess. I mean, magical depletion could take years, decades. Just look at us._

“Not anymore.”

Dean snorted, though it came out as a high-pitched wheeze. _Well obviously. We’re all set now. But I was close to being a goner before, and I’d gone 25 years without a Bond._

“And Michael is not looking well, you said?”

_Definitely not. Lucifer’s not looking too hot, either._

“Maybe there’s a way I can send a message to them, talk to them and convince them that what they’re doing is wrong and not working—”

_Cas, they almost killed you. They’re hunting you and Gabriel down. I’m not just handing you over._

“I don’t want to be handed over. I’m just saying that if they knew what was happening, then maybe they could still be saved.”

_Like they deserve that. Come on, they’ve dug their own graves._

“It’s my coven, Dean. I know that what they’re doing is wrong, but if there’s a chance we can save them, shouldn’t we take it?”

_I get what you’re saying, but I don’t think they’d even listen to you. You don’t owe them anything._

Castiel sighed. “I know. But they’re…they were my family. And I’m sure not all of them agree with Michael and Lucifer. Is it fair for them all to be punished for the wrongdoing of a few? They’ll suffer if we don’t help.”

 _You and your heart._ Dean chirped again, a bit sadly. _One thing at a time, though. If we’re going to close the Gates of Hell, that’s first. Then we can worry about un-brainwashing your coven, okay?_

“Fine. And, well, there is another good thing about closing Hell.”

_What’s that?_

“I did some more research and I think that when we close the Gates, right before it seals shut, all the demons on earth will be sucked back inside.”

Dean’s eyes widened. _Really?_

“Yes. So it’ll be worth it.”

_That’s great news._

“I thought so.” Castiel paused. “So how do you feel now? Think you can be human again?”

Dean fluffed his feathers again to get comfortable in a new position. _Better, but I’m not gonna lie. I’m kind of loving this right now._

Castiel smiled. “Well then, stay a bird. I’ll watch over you, and listen to all your little birdie snores.”

 _What? I do_ not _snore._

“Oh you most certainly do, and as a bird, it’s adorable. I’ve got a video of it on my phone.”

_Cas, you didn’t!_

But Castiel just grinned wider.

 _How dare you?!_ Dean puffed up, indignant, and Castiel just laughed. He gently stroked Dean’s feathers, and Dean settled back down again, sleepy. _M’gonna sleep now._

“Alright. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

* * *

Hours later, Dean woke as a human. He grunted as he rolled over, inhaling deep.

“How are you feeling?”

Like he’d promised, Castiel was right there beside him, propped up against the headboard with what looked like a spellbook in his lap.

Dean frowned and shifted so he could sit in the same position. He leaned against his Witch’s shoulder as he evaluated himself.

“Think I’m good,” he said, while he tested his arms and wrists and fingers. Everything appeared to be working, and there wasn’t even a hint of pain.

“Good. I’m glad,” Castiel said. He smiled and then returned his gaze to his book.

“What’re you reading?”

“Just looking up information on augmenting locator spells, so they can cross dimensions.”

“Let me guess—Balthazar?”

“Yes,” Castiel said with a sigh. “I should have all the components to do the spell, but…” He closed his eyes. “I hope he’s not down there. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get him back if he is. It’s part of the trials anyways, right?”

“You really want to go ahead with them?”

“What choice do we have?”

“Even if there are consequences?”

Dean swallowed. “I guess so.”

Castiel fixed him a long look. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Yeah. But only on one condition.”

Castiel’s lips twitched with fond amusement. “Yes, I agree. We do it together.” When Dean just gawked at him, Castiel reached down to entwine their fingers. “I know that’s what you were going to say, and I feel it, too. We’re stronger when we’re together.” He lifted Dean’s hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, which had only a short time ago been painfully out of alignment.

The intimate gesture had Dean tearing up. A lump wedged his throat closed.

 _I love you_ , Dean thought through their Bond, and he didn’t care that he hadn’t known Castiel that long. What he felt was real, realer than anything in his life. It was the undeniable, irrefutable truth.

 _I love you, too_ , Castiel said back, and Dean let Castiel cradle his face and thumb away the tears that beaded at the corners of his eyes. Their foreheads met, and Dean breathed in the scent of his Witch, his beautiful Witch. God, he was the luckiest Familiar in the world.

They’d just angled down to kiss when a knock sounded on the front door, followed by a key twisting in the lock.

Dean exchanged glances with Castiel as they both stumbled out of bed and raced into the living area. They arrived just in time for Dean’s parents to barrel inside.

“Dean Winchester!” Mary cried, and Dean’s eyes widened. “I had to hear from Ellen not only about a Golem nearly killing Cas, but about you getting kidnapped and barely escaping with your life!” Dean’s dad stood back sheepishly as Mary swept forward and drew Dean into a crushing hug.

“Mo-om!” Dean protested until Mary finally let him go.

“A mother worries, you know,” she said. She turned to give Castiel a similar hug, and Dean stifled a laugh at the pained expression on Castiel’s face.

 _Welcome to the family_ , Dean thought to him.

_Your mother is very strong._

_Yup._ Dean smirked.

Mary released Castiel and then huffed at the both of them.

“Honestly, I hear more from your brother and he’s hundreds of miles away!”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Dean said. “It’s just been crazy. One thing after the next. Haven’t had a chance to even breathe.”

“Which is why you should’ve called. We can help, you know. That’s what family’s for. Right, John?”

John had edged his way into the room, and was staring out the window. He jerked his attention to the conversation. “Hmm? Yeah, definitely. If you need help, we’re here.”

Dean groaned. “You didn’t bring Missouri and Pastor Jim, did you?”

“No, not on this trip,” Mary said. “Why?”

“Because everything’s fine now. Really.”

“Well, actually,” Castiel started.

 _What are you doing?_ Dean demanded through their Bond.

_Maybe they can help with elements of the trials._

_We can’t involve them!_

_Why not?_

“What are you two arguing about?” Mary asked, her eyebrow raised.

Dean sighed. “Let me make coffee.”

A half hour later, they were all seated around the kitchen table and Castiel had just finished updating Mary and John on their impending decision.

“I gotta say,” John spoke up, as he set down his mug, “I don’t like the sound of this at all. Trials? To close Hell? It can’t be as simple as Sarah says, with just those three steps. There’s gotta be more to it.”

“That’s what I said,” Dean said.

“But if we don’t do something, it’ll only get worse,” Castiel said. “More innocent people will get hurt.”

“Honey,” Mary said, and she reached across the table to clutch Castiel’s hand, “You don’t have to feel responsible for your old coven. You don’t belong with them anymore. You’re one of us now. Let go of your guilt. It’s not your fault that this is happening.”

Dean felt Castiel’s overwhelmed emotions through their Bond, and smiled at him.

“What she said,” Dean echoed with a grin.

Castiel blinked fiercely, his eyes watery. “Thank you. Truly. But—” He was cut off as the front door burst open.

Charlie flew through it and then sagged in relief at the sight of them. “Oh, thank god! I was just at The Roadhouse and I heard you’d gotten tortured or something and… I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he stood up to greet her. She closed the door and joined them in the kitchen.

“Charlie, these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is my friend, Charlie.”

“Oh, the one you used to dress up with?” Mary asked.

Dean winced. “Mom!”

John sniggered.

“It’s called LARPing actually,” Charlie said. “Live Action Role-Playing. Which,” she faced Dean with a frown, “we haven’t done in forever.”

Dean sobered. “Yeah. Been busy.”

Her face morphed into concern. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Really. And, uh, it’s good you’re here. I want to hold another meeting with everyone, so they know how to stay safe from demons.”

“Count me in. Though I’m already pretty protected,” Charlie said, as she lifted the sleeve of her shirt to reveal a tattoo on the meat of her upper arm. It was a pentacle surrounded by a circle of flames. “Voila! An anti-possession tattoo.”

Dean blinked. Crowley had mentioned them before, but Dean had been too distracted by his Witch almost dying to really connect the dots.

“What’re those?” he asked, and Charlie took his seat at the table. Dean huffed, as he only owned four chairs.

“They protect people from getting possessed by demons. No demon can possess you if have one of these.”

“Everyone needs one, then,” Castiel said, and Dean agreed with a nod. Demons could possess both humans and supernatural creatures alike. He’d witnessed it firsthand, and counted himself lucky that none of the Hell spawn had ever set their sights on him.

“Can you send me the details?” Mary asked. “We can spread the word to everyone we know.”

They exchanged contact information and then Charlie let out a little laugh.

“What?” Dean asked, where he was leaning against the counter since there was nowhere else for him to go.

“It just occurred to me that your parents can become animals, too. Like, you’re all Familiars!”

Dean snorted. “Uh, yeah.”

“It’s still blowing my mind!” Charlie said, shaking her head.

John’s eyebrows rose as he glanced pointedly at Dean. “Let me guess: she just found out about our world?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah!" Charlie said. "It’s like, I’m a Muggle and I stumbled upon this secret magical world. I guess that would make me a Squib now, but you know. I’ll keep the secret, obviously.”

“What?” Mary asked in complete confusion.

Charlie turned to her. “So what kind of animal are you? I mean, what’s your Familiar designation?” Her eyes darted to Dean for confirmation that she’d said it correctly, and he nodded.

“I’m a bird designation,” Mary said.

“That’s so cool! Dean showed me some smaller forms, but are you able to be larger birds, too? Like, I don’t know, an ostrich?”

Mary stood up with a ‘pfft’ noise. “Of course. As long as you have the right training, you can be anything in the designation.”

“Can I—?” Charlie started, but Mary had already transformed. A proud ostrich now stood in Dean’s kitchen. At seven feet tall, she towered over them. Her head was close to the ceiling.

Charlie’s chair fell backward as she stood, her mouth gaping. “Oh my god! Dean, your mom’s an ostrich!”

Dean rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the smile off his face, especially since Castiel’s amusement tinged their Bond.

“And Dean, did you know that Benny at The Roadhouse is a vampire?” Charlie asked, completely serious, and that’s when he lost it. He threw his head back and laughed with his whole body.

After the crazy stress of the past few days, it felt good to just laugh, surrounded by some of the people he loved most in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially done with my first semester at both programs! Woot! Now to enjoy my winter break!


	26. Chapter 26

Dean was really sick of spending time at the police station, but the reports kept flowing in, and Victor needed all the help he could get.  

The small precinct was inundated.

Missing persons. Violent homicidal behavior from people with previously spotless records. Countless others with gaps in their memories who reported feeling dirty and cold, like Aaron had after his possession.

And dead bodies.

They kept piling up. Though it was still only a handful, every new discovery made Dean’s gut churn.

The Angelus Coven was well and truly after them, and he didn’t know what to do. And the collateral damage was only going to get worse.

Dean could feel Castiel’s similar strain through their Bond. Neither of them needed to say anything, but the trials to close Hell were at the forefront of their thoughts. With John and Mary’s input, they’d decided to do it once reinforcements arrived.

Reinforcements in the way of Dean’s parents’ Witches, as well as Sam, Sarah, Jess, and Anna. They had made some sort of deal with their professors so they could leave for winter break a few weeks early, and now they were on their way to help.

To be honest, though, Dean wasn’t sure how much help they would be. Although it was comforting to know he’d have his whole family here again, he didn’t want to put anyone in danger, least of all Jess, who was carrying his niece or nephew. And with Jess out of commission, her Witch Anna wouldn’t be able to do much. That left Sam and Sarah, but what could they do if they were inevitably distracted and worried about those they’d left behind?

Overall, it was a shitty situation. Dean and Castiel barely had time alone, as one or both of them were out warning everyone they knew about what was coming. They’d gotten anti-possession tattoos, since Charlie’s research had proven accurate, and the local parlors now had a queue of other supernatural creatures angling for the same symbol. Dean had held another meeting to rehash ways people could protect themselves from demons, and made sure to take attendance so everyone was accounted for.

And since then, Dean’s life revolved around the same five locations: his apartment, The Roadhouse, his parent’s hotel room, Gabriel’s cafe, and the police station. Sometimes he’d visit them in that order, sometimes not, but he no longer deviated, and he no longer traveled alone. It was too risky.   

One night, a few weeks after his kidnapping, Dean returned to his apartment feeling weary to the bone. He gave Victor a tired wave and the cop drove off as Dean trudged up to the door. He’d spent all day in his dog form trying to track down three new missing persons—a bunch of barely legal kids—and all he’d turned up was a ripped shirt and a few drops of blood. He kept replaying the ritual he’d witnessed through Raphael’s mind, and he prayed that those kids hadn’t been sucked into something awful like that. But really? It was more than likely, with all the reported demon activity going on. Dean was surprised they hadn’t honed in on him and Castiel yet, and feared that they were biding their time for something worse.

Dean rolled his shoulders as he opened the door, and the second he’d shut himself inside, he was overwhelmed by grief. His knees buckled and he sagged to the floor, horrified at the tears pricking his eyes.

“Cas?” he called, his voice suddenly hoarse.

There was no answer, but Dean knew his Witch was there. He forced himself to his feet and staggered toward the guest bedroom.

He found Castiel inside, curled up in a ball on the floor. He’d shoved aside the furniture to open up a space in the center, where he’d traced symbols onto the wood to cast a spell. With the emotions now roiling off of him, it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.

The locator spell had revealed the truth: Balthazar’s soul was in Hell.

Dean knelt down to gather his Witch in his arms. Castiel didn’t resist as Dean pulled him to his feet and led him to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower. Neither of them spoke as Dean carefully stripped Castiel down to his underwear and then removed his own clothes. Steam filled the air as he drew back the curtain, and Dean wiggled out of his boxers as he stepped under the spray. He tugged on Castiel’s arm, and he finished undressing to join Dean.

The shower wasn’t that big, but it didn’t need to be. They both just stood, pressed together, while the water drenched them. It stayed silent as Dean grabbed soap and began to lather up his Witch, rubbing what he hoped was soothing warmth into stiff, grief-locked muscles.

For a long moment Castiel remained tense, and Dean knew, even without their Bond, that Castiel didn’t think he deserved such gentle treatment. To prove that he did, Dean continued his steady ministrations until Castiel finally let himself relax. He let out a long, shuddering sigh.

 _Thank you_ , Castiel whispered through their Bond.

Dean drew Castiel toward him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, where wet hair was plastered to his scalp.

 _I love you, and I’m sorry about Balthazar_ , Dean said back.

At his words, Castiel returned to himself, and then it was his turn to wash Dean down. His movements were slow and tender, and though it was neither the time nor place, Dean’s whole body tingled and heat pooled in his gut. He opened his mouth, gasping, and subconsciously tilted his whole body toward Castiel.

His Witch knew what he wanted. Castiel nuzzled his neck and pushed Dean so his back was to Castiel’s front. Then, his hands smoothed down Dean’s back, slippery with water. Dean braced himself against the wall as Castiel’s touch landed on his ass, and then spread his cheeks to rub at his hole. Dean shuddered while Castiel traced the delicate nerve endings around his rim. He prodded at the opening with one finger, while his other hand dangled lower to cup Dean’s balls.

Dean sucked in a ragged breath as Castiel’s finger breached him. Water was no substitute for lube, but it was good enough, and he urged Castiel to continue despite the Witch having stopped at Dean’s brief flare of pain.   

 _Should we take this to the bedroom?_ Castiel asked telepathically. He removed his hands, and Dean turned to face him.

“Only if you want this, too,” he said, but Castiel’s eyes were dark, and he felt his Witch’s lust. Both of them knew that sex was only a temporary solution, but at least they’d feel good for a little while.

“I want to fuck you,” Castiel said, and Dean shivered at the way his voice rumbled.

“Okay,” he said, his voice squeaking. “Let me just get clean.”

Castiel nodded and stepped out of the shower. _Come when you’re ready._

And that was all the incentive he needed to clean up, good, but fast. By the time he’d turned off the shower and toweled himself dry, he was half-hard with anticipation. Nerves flurried in his stomach, but he wanted this, he really, really did.

Castiel was waiting for him in the bedroom. He’d spread an extra sheet over their bedspread, so they wouldn’t make too much of a mess. The dirty thought had Dean’s cock twitching eagerly.

Castiel noticed, and smirked. “Someone’s ready.”

“Been waiting for you all my life,” Dean said in a whoosh of breath.

Castiel stalked toward him, predatory, and the next thing Dean knew his Witch was attacking him, claiming him with forceful lips on his. They nipped at each other, and their tongues tangled like they wanted to suck each other down, but Dean held his own. Castiel angled them toward the bed, and Dean fell back with Castiel on top of him.

Gravity forced their mouths apart, but they quickly corrected it, until Castiel shifted and accidentally kneed Dean in the groin.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Dean said, and Castiel stilled, his eyes wide.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Dude, that hurt!” Dean said, clutching at his dick while pained tears stung his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Castiel babbled, and the panic and remorse filtering through their Bond had the opposite effect Castiel intended.

Dean laughed. He laughed until his sides ached, and by then, Castiel had joined him. Their mutual humor faded slowly, and then Castiel carefully rocked forward so he could kiss down Dean’s chest. Dean urged him on.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore. Go ahead.”

But Castiel shook his head. “Last time I was supposed to make you feel good, and then you pleasured me.”

Dean cringed. “Don’t say the word ‘pleasured’ like that. It’s weird.”

“But it’s true. Tonight is about you. I mean it.”

“Yeah? And I want to get fucked. So fuck me. We’ll get off at the same time no matter what, right?”

Castiel sighed, but it was fond. He hesitated. “I guess. I just….” He trailed off, and Dean registered embarrassment through their Bond. He was about to ask what was wrong, when he realized that his Witch wasn’t hard. Did he really want this, or was Dean’s horniness contaminating him?

“No, I want this. I just don’t think I can give you that. But let me make you feel good.”

“Cas,” Dean started, but Castiel wrapped a hand around his cock and squeezed so the rest of Dean’s words were cut off. Castiel kept his fingers firm as he shifted to grab a bottle of lube on the bed, which he must’ve taken out of the drawer. He removed his hand to squirt some of the liquid on them, and then returned to stroking Dean, hard and fast, and then slow and steady.

Dean lay back and just grunted as pleasure zinged through him. Being Bonded was incredible, because Dean didn’t need to tell Castiel what to do; he just intuited it through Dean’s half-frantic thoughts. Because of that, Castiel knew just how to jack him off, how to linger at the head and rub at the slit, and then slide back down again. How to twist _right there_ and then...oh shit.

“Scoot forward and lift your hips a bit,” Castiel said, and Dean bit his lip as Castiel kept stroking him with one hand, while circling his rim with the other. The tip of one of his fingers dipped inside, and Dean keened, fully hard and overwhelmed by the dual sensations.

And Castiel was relentless. He couldn’t find a rhythm to move both hands at the same time, but he kept the pressure tight and perfect. He held onto Dean’s cock as he fucked into him with his fingers—one, then two, then three—and he crooked them inside to find Dean’s prostate.

Dean’s hips nearly shot off the bed when Castiel located the tiny bundle of nerves, and by then Dean was panting and babbling half-coherent sentences.

“Fuck, Cas, yeah, baby, right there, right there, shit that feels so good, _shit shit!_ ”

“Shh, I’ve got you, Dean. I’ve got you,” Castiel said. He managed to stimulate Dean’s prostate while brushing over the sensitive head of Dean’s cock, and that was it.

Dean’s orgasm hit him hard. He trembled through it as spurts of come painted his chest. Castiel kept his fingers inside as he tugged on Dean’s cock, wringing everything he could out of him. Castiel’s breaths were loud and harsh, and though he hadn’t come, Dean knew his orgasm had reverberated through their Bond like last time so Castiel had definitely felt it.

They collapsed back onto the sheets, and Castiel curled into him, shaking. A few moments passed, and then Dean registered wetness on his skin.

“Cas?” he asked, though he already knew his Witch was crying.

 _I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ , Castiel spoke in his mind. _I’m happy but I'm not and I just…._

Dean squeezed his arms around him. “It’s okay. It’s all overwhelming, I know.”

_I’m tired of waiting. The longer we go before starting the trials, the more people are going to get hurt._

“I know,” Dean said.

_And I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me._

“Because of _us_. And...I was thinking the same thing.”

Castiel sniffled, and idly smeared his fingers through the come drying on Dean’s chest. “So, you want to go ahead and do it, just the two of us?”

Dean didn’t need to ask for clarification. “Yeah, I do. Mom and Dad will be pissed, but it’s better not to involve everyone.”

Castiel nodded. “Okay. How about tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow sounds as good as any.”

Tomorrow, they would summon them some Hellhounds.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Belated Christmas, everyone! :)

“Dean, would you please stop growling? I’m trying to concentrate.”

 _Sorry_ , Dean said sheepishly, even though he couldn’t help it. He was in the form of his usual German Shepherd, but this time he was nervous. He paced his living room one more time before pawing at the sofa, for no other reason than to vent his anxiety while he waited.

His Witch sat at the kitchen table memorizing a doozy of a summoning spell, not to mention the added part for the trials that Castiel had managed to pry from Sarah in a stroke of luck.

A few hours before, Castiel had wanted to confirm the information she told him about the trials before they officially started them, just to make sure they weren’t missing anything. As it turned out, there was an additional incantation needed for the trials to go into effect. Sarah had most likely kept it hidden from them so they wouldn’t do anything stupid, but they called her when she was between flights and the others were in the bathroom. Unthinking in her exhausted, half-awake state, she ended up revealing the final piece of information that would allow the ritual to succeed, and now there was nothing holding them back.

Of course, Sarah had also rambled more about Kevin’s translations of the tablet, something about whosoever choosing to undertake the trials needing to not fear danger or death, because they had to be prepared for their spines getting ripped out through their mouths for all eternity.

A pleasant image, that.

The whole thing stank, but Dean had agreed it was a necessary evil. After all, they could suck all the demons back to Hell in one go and then seal the Gates so no one could summon them ever again. If that meant only he and Castiel had to suffer and lives could be saved, it was worth it.

Still, Dean fretted.

Which meant that he growled continuously.

“Dean,” Castiel said, exasperated.

Dean padded over to his Witch and rested his head on Castiel’s thigh. He whined until Castiel scratched his ears.

“I really do need to concentrate, you know.”

_I know, I know. I’m just nervous, I guess. You sure we shouldn’t make Crowley do this?_

“He’s a demon. We can’t trust him. We don’t know his connections, and we especially can’t let the demons get wind that we’re closing Hell for good.”

Dean huffed. _Yeah. You’re right._

“Of course I am.” He rubbed Dean’s ears and Dean closed his eyes.

  _Don’t stop. Oh man that feels good._ His tail whacked the floor with hard thumps as Castiel continued his ministrations.

“You are too damn distracting,” Castiel groused after a few moments. He released Dean and chided him when he whined. “Come on. I have to get this spell right. You don’t want me summoning something worse, do you?”

_That could happen?_

“Well, the problem is that this is an old and very obscure spell. The rules for current spells don’t apply as much, so I need to modify them to make this work. I only want to summon one Hellhound, not fifty.”  

 _Yikes. I’ll leave you to it._ Dean wandered over to the living room, where he leapt onto the couch, spun a few times, and then plopped down.

“You know,” Castiel said, “I’ve met Familiars who were far more invested in magic than you.”

_Eh, it’s not my thing. Never really understood it. Just let me do all the physical stuff, and I’ll leave the brainy crap for you crazy-smart Witches._

“I’m honored.”

Dean snorted as he laid his head on his front legs. He closed his eyes. _Wake me up when you’re ready._

Castiel finished his preparations about an hour later, and they piled into Dean’s car to drive across town. They didn’t want to cause any more trouble for the locals, so they had arranged for the spell to go down in the warehouse where the djinn had kept Charlie. The place set Dean on edge, but at least it was remote and deserted—he made sure of that. As much as the place reeked in his dog form, where the smells of blood, feces, piss, and BO assaulted him (not to mention the old scent of Charlie, which tickled his nose), Dean could tell it was long since abandoned.

Castiel drew a summoning circle on the ground in chalk, and then placed items at strategic points along the outer edge. Dean’s mouth unintentionally watered, since one of the ingredients of the spell was raw meat—an excellent way to attract any sort of canine, be it living or Hell beast.

“No, Dean, you can’t eat it,” Castiel said, and his amusement twinged through the Bond.

Dean’s eyes were fixated on the slab of meat, its juices pooling on the ground. _I know. I can’t help my dog brain though. It wants what it wants._

“Alright, I think I’m ready. You?”

 _As ready as I’ll ever be_. Dean barked for emphasis.  

Castiel nodded. “Brace yourself.” He lit a black candle, which belched foul-smelling smoke into the air. He recited the summoning spell, and Dean was impressed at how fluid the words sounded; Castiel didn’t stumble once. Pride swept through Dean. His Witch was awesome.

But he had to get his head back on track. The candle flared the second Castiel finished, and then a burst of energy propelled them into the wall. They crash-landed with a groan, and Dean hurried over to Castiel, who winced and sat up.

“Did it work?” he asked.

A cold rumbling filled the room, but Dean couldn’t see anything.

 _Shit. It’s invisible._ He wrinkled his nose. _I can still smell it, though. Ugh. It reeks of sulfur. You stay here._

 _No,_ Castiel responded telepathically. _We’re in this together, remember? We both need to bathe in its blood._

Dean’s ears flattened to his head as he narrowed in on the noxious odor wafting from the Hellhound. The beast snarled, its voice amplified by its demonic nature.

 _The thing’s standing at your 10 o’clock, I’m pretty sure,_ Dean said.

Castiel fumbled in his jacket and removed his silver knife blade. _Can you lure it over to us?_

But there was no need.

The Hellhound attacked. The only forewarning to its lunge was the scuffling of invisible claws on the cement floor. Dean bolted forward to meet it, and the beast slammed into him, jarring the breath from his lungs as he landed on his back. It must’ve been a big one, because as much as Dean snapped at it with his teeth, anxious to get it off him, the thing kept him pinned in place.

The Hellhound raked its claws over his exposed chest, and Dean whined in pain.

“Hey, assbutt!” Castiel called, and Dean glanced over to see his Witch chuck the formerly lit candle at where he assumed the Hellhound was. His aim was true, and the creature shrieked before releasing Dean.

 _It’s coming for you!_ Dean warned him, and Castiel brandished his knife. His gaze darted around, but the Hellhound had gone silent.

Until it leapt and knocked Castiel over.

 _Cas!_ Dean estimated the jump, and then landed on the creature’s back. He sank his teeth into the back of its neck, and the Hellhound howled. _Now, Cas!_ Dean called, hoping his Witch wasn’t being completely crushed by their combined weight.

Castiel’s hand scrabbled for the knife, which had fallen just out of his reach.

 _Come on, come on!_ Castiel chanted, and Dean knew when Castiel’s fingers closed over the hilt as a triumphant feeling zinged through him. Castiel shifted his arm enough to draw it back, and then slashed up, embedding the knife in the Hellhound’s chest before slicing all the way down to its abdomen. A fountain of black, oozing blood gushed onto Castiel, and Dean hopped off the creature so he could shove it off of his Witch.

On its side, the Hellhound whimpered and then died, but not before Dean rolled in the pool of blood it had left behind. His fur was soaked when he was finished, but he could smell death in the room and knew they’d been successful.

He transformed back into a human, and almost gagged at the mess all over his clothes.

“That was super gross,” he said. “Do we know if it worked or not?”

“I have to say the incantation now. Are you alright?”

Dean fingered the cuts on his chest. “Yeah, just scrapes. Go for the mojo.”

Castiel eyed him closely and then nodded. He paused and then spoke the words, which were more of a set of harsh syllables that barely blended together, at least to Dean’s ears.

It was shorter than Dean expected, so when his whole body pulsed with a sudden, screaming light, he pitched forward with a gasp. Castiel joined him on the ground as they writhed, and then it stopped. Dean’s right arm trembled, and he watched a flare of red surge through his veins and then vanish.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I guess...we’re really doing this, huh?”

“No turning back now,” Castiel agreed.

Dean shook his head with a grimace. “Man, I need a shower.”

“Same. Might I join you?”

At that, Dean cracked a smile. He winked at his Witch. “Maybe.”

 

*****

 

Dean expected something to feel different after starting the trials, but it was like nothing had changed.

Of course, his parents were pissed. Sam and his posse were pissed. Dean’s friends were, you guessed it, pissed. But he didn’t regret it. They were finally working toward a solution, and it wasn’t like he was alone in this.

He had Castiel.

Although now, his whole family was in Sioux Falls, breathing down his neck just waiting for something to go wrong. They’d all decided to research again, as if they could reverse the trials and start them over, but Dean didn’t even bother to crack open a book. He knew, with absolute, bone-deep certainty, that it couldn’t be undone. He and Castiel had to see it through to the end.

A few days into research, Jess cracked. She slammed her tome closed and shoved her chair back, drawing everyone’s attention. Everyone being Sam, Sarah, Anna, Dean, and Castiel. Dean’s parents had plans with Bobby.

“Listen,” Jess said, “I just worked my ass off to finish this semester early, and now we’re doing all this research again. This makes me sound like an asshole, but I need a break. And we all know,” her gaze swept over Sam, Sarah, and Anna, lounging in Dean’s living room, while he and Castiel sat at the table with Jess, “that this isn’t going to get us anywhere. They already started the trials. They’re the only ones who can finish it.” She sighed. “And seriously, it’s winter break. I’m tired of reading books.”

The room collectively sighed with her, and everyone wore resigned expressions.

“If you’re tired of books, you mated into the wrong family,” Dean said after a moment, and Sam shot him a dirty look.

Jess smirked. “At least _you_ get it. I mean, instead of working, you’ve just been sitting there drinking coffee and making lovey-dovey eyes at your Witch.”

Dean recoiled. “What? No I haven’t!” But his face started to flame. He ducked his head.

 _Yes you have,_ Castiel said through their Bond. He smirked. _You are extremely distracting. I’ve read this page probably five times without processing it._ He set his book down. He wasn’t researching like the others, but had decided to join them all with what he termed ‘light pleasure reading.’

Freaking nerd.

“I need some fresh air,” Jess announced. “Who wants to join me?”

Anna stood up, and she and Jess appeared to have a telepathic conversation as they stared at each other. Finally, Anna looked away with a sigh.

“Come on. It’ll be fun,” Jess said as she approached her. “It’s snowing!”

Which was an understatement. The day after everyone arrived from California, North Dakota was hit with a foot of snow. Through the windows, Dean could see flakes were starting to drift down again. They’d pick up in no time and create yet another blizzard. Thankfully, half of the room could transform into smaller animals, so if travel was bad and they needed to spend the night, at least they wouldn’t take up much room.

“I need to _climb_ ,” Jess said.

Anna rolled her eyes. “I know. Your antsiness is making _me_ antsy. Fine, we’ll go for a walk or something. There’s got to be a park around here somewhere. Let me just get my jacket.” She departed for the guest room where she’d set down her things.

“Are you sure climbing is a good idea?” Sam asked as he got to his feet.

“Samuel Winchester, I swear to god if you tell me to take it easy because of the baby, I will...I will bite off your fingers!”

Sarah snorted and Sam glared at her. She shrugged. “What? Don’t look at me. You’re digging your own grave.”

It was cute how worried Sam was. Yeah, it was his baby Jess was carrying, but she had only the teeniest, tiniest bump, and even in the short time he’d known her, Dean knew she could take care of herself.

“I’m just saying to be careful, okay? It can get slippery and—” he trailed off as Jess sidled over to him and planted a kiss on his lips. That quickly devolved into a rather tame (thank god) makeout session, which Dean ended when he clapped his hands suddenly, causing them to jump apart.

“Alright, yes,” he said, “there’s a park nearby, and yes, we’re all going to go outside and have some fun. Witches, dress warm. Familiars, turn into something warm.”

“Well, duh,” Jess said.

“Hey, I’m on your side here,” Dean said.

“Sorry. I’m a little cranky from being cooped up.”

“A little?” Anna muttered as she stepped back into the room, covered in a parka and earmuffs.

Jess winced. “Sorry, everyone.”

“It’s no problem,” Castiel said. “I think we could all use a break.”

“Anna, you need gloves,” Jess said, and she hurried to the guest room to grab them.

“Is there a place where they can transform?” Anna asked, directing her question to Dean.

“Yeah. There’s an enclosed area in the park where Cas and I used to train. There are trees all around.”

“Awesome!” Jess said as she returned. Anna grumbled good-naturedly but allowed Jess to cover her hands with the gloves. “I know just what I want to be.”

The Witches bundled up, and the Familiars at least put on jackets, since it was still cold outside in their human forms. Dean and Sam could transform without being noticed, but Jess was a monkey and thus more conspicuous, so it was unspoken that they’d wait until they were hidden enough before turning into their animal forms.

Outside, they walked briskly toward the park. The air was cold, though the snow had stopped. Their breath puffed in clouds as they hurried, anxious to really stretch their legs.

When they got close enough to their secluded spot in the park, Dean sprinted ahead.

He double-checked they wouldn’t be seen before he called, “See ya, suckers!” and transformed into a Snowy Owl.

He screeched and flew forward, cackling internally when he craned his head back to catch Sam’s indignant expression.

“For the love of—just go!” came Sarah’s exasperated voice after a moment, and a flurry of barks followed after Dean. He soared ahead, knowing he would beat Sam no problem.

Dean landed on a rock outcropping half-hidden in snow and screeched again, this time in triumph.

Sam raced toward him in the form of an Alaskan Malamute, and just when Dean braced himself for a collision, Sam leapt clear over him.

Dean transformed back into human form. “Show-off!” he yelled, but it was on. He transformed into a Husky and bounded after him. They chased each other through the snow, nipping and emitting playful barks before a deep sound caused them to halt.

Jess, in the form of some kind of monkey— _She’s a Japanese macaque, Dean,_ Castiel said through their Bond—hooted at them. Sam immediately padded over to her, sniffing her and then licking her fur.

She swatted him off, and then scurried through the snow toward a barren Oak tree, just on the edge of the enclosure. Her nimble fingers grasped the bark, and she clambered up to sit on one of the lower branches. Sam raced over to brace his front paws on the trunk as he yapped at her. His tail wagged so hard Dean could barely see it.

 _Gross lovebirds,_ Dean thought.

 _Says the man who was staring at me all day,_ Castiel said.

_Oi, shut up. You don’t get a say in what I think about my brother and his mate._

_Fair enough._ Mischievous glee filtered through their Bond, and Dean cocked his head at Castiel’s suddenly devious smile.

“Would you like to play fetch?” Castiel asked as he dug a stick out of the snow and waved it in front of him.

Damn his dog brain, because the stick filled Dean’s vision until it was all he could see. And now Dean wanted the stick. Bad.

_Give me the stick, Cas. Also, you’re a dick._

“If you want the stick, you’ll have to get it!” Castiel said as he lobbed it across the open expanse.

Dean tracked its descent and then shot off after it. He wanted the stick. No, he _needed_ the stick. He’d show Castiel once he got it and brought it back.

He snagged the stick off the ground and trotted back to Castiel, who tried to grab it from him, though Dean clenched it tightly in his teeth.

“Dean, let go,” Castiel said, half-laughing.

“Oh my god he really _is_ a dog,” Anna said as she giggled.

“You have no idea,” Sarah said.

“Dean, drop it. _Drop it_. Good dog.”

Dean’s tail wagged. _I hate you._

_And yet you’re playing along._

_Shut up and throw the damn stick._

This time, Sam was watching when Castiel chucked the stick, so he and Dean fought over it and then started wrestling. They growled as Dean squirmed out from his brother’s attempt to pin him. Dean’s Husky was smaller yet more agile, while Sam’s Malamute was sturdier and more muscular, so they were pretty evenly matched.

Snow coated their fur as they rolled around. Dean had missed spending time with his brother, he realized, as Sam managed to grab him by the scruff of his neck. Dean barked and twisted out of his grasp only to snap at Sam’s fluffy tail. Things felt normal with him being here, even if he’d brought a bunch of new people with him.

Dean was overcome with the feeling of rightness, all of a sudden, of family and love and comfort and happiness. The best part was that Castiel reflected his feelings right back to him. He shot his Witch a goofy dog grin before Sam pounced on him again.

Things were going great.

Until they weren’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I had so much fun with the second half of this chapter. Dean as a dog playing fetch KILLED ME haha. I hope you enjoyed it, too! ;)


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! May 2016 be good to you all! :)

One morning a few weeks later, Dean woke to the sound of ragged coughing. He stretched in bed, wondering why he was alone and why Castiel’s side was cold. Then he registered what he was hearing, and quickly threw off the covers.

He stalked to the bathroom to find his Witch hunched over the toilet, spitting up blood.

“Cas?” Dean asked, as he knelt beside him. He placed a hand on his Witch’s shoulder and found him trembling. “Hey, you okay?”

Castiel shoved his feelings through the Bond to show that he was really _not_ okay.

“You must’ve caught a cold, huh?” Dean said weakly.

Castiel gave him a look. _I’m coughing up blood, if you haven’t noticed,_ he said, a hint of snark even in his mental voice.

“So? It might not be that bad. We could take you to a doctor and—”

“No,” Castiel said aloud, his voice hoarse. “They won’t be able to help. I don’t think this is a natural illness.” He eyed Dean pointedly, and Dean blanched.

Yeah, so they’d both been feeling sort of crummy lately. Dean attributed that to the winter weather more than anything else, now that December was fully in swing. But he couldn’t deny that they were both having trouble sleeping, and Dean’s right arm kept aching with phantom pain—the same arm that had glowed with the trial’s power after killing the Hellhound. But it was all coincidence, right? And just because they were both feeling it didn’t mean anything. Maybe sickness passed through their Bond.

It was poor logic, Dean knew, but he had to believe it, rather than face the fact that the dark bags under his Witch’s eyes were the result of the trials, and there was no telling how much worse it might get.

Dean patted Castiel on the back. “We’ll figure this out,” he said.

Except that a few hours after breakfast, something lodged in Dean throat and he sprinted to the sink to spit out his own globs of blood.

Oh, this was so very not good.

Thankfully, with their family’s help, they’d made some progress on the trials. That was a good thing, because it would be better to get them over sooner rather than later since they were starting to take a physical toll.

It was Anna who figured it out, in the end. As an aspiring journalist, she paid close attention to small details and loved investigating facts. By reading old accounts and newsletters, she’d stumbled upon an ancient society called The Men of Letters, who were sworn to document and preserve history on the supernatural. They were devoted little buggers, and once Anna unearthed their cache thanks to a friend of a friend, she unlocked all sorts of information. Most of it pertained to the third trial and curing a demon, which Dean didn’t want to think about yet. But she did dig up something interesting about Hell. Or rather, Purgatory, which was apparently Hell adjacent.

They all decided to meet over dinner to discuss the finer details, since Jess wanted Anna to get some shut-eye after being up all night absorbed in her reading. Dean thought it was cute that Jess was so protective of her Witch. Was that always part of Jess’s personality, or were those latent maternal instincts kicking in now that she had a bun in the oven? In any case, their Bond reminded Dean of that between his mother and her Witch, Missouri, and he knew better than to snark about it. He’d just have to be patient about the trials.

Not that there was a ticking clock or anything.

The thud of a cabinet shutting jolted Dean out of his head, where he’d been silently panicking as he sat at the kitchen table.

“We should go grocery shopping,” Castiel said. “We’re getting low on almost everything.”

Dean grimaced. “Do we have to?”

“We should get out of the apartment,” Castiel said.

“We both look like shit.”

“So? It’s winter. Everyone will just think we have normal illnesses.”

“But we could faint or something. And who knows what else.”

“Dean,” Castiel said, his voice gentle and his eyes soft. “We can’t live our lives in fear. We knew something like this could happen when we decided to go ahead with the trials. Remember what our goal is.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I know.” He jumped when his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced down at it. “Crowley’s calling again. What should I tell him? This is his ninth call in two days. I can’t keep ignoring him.”

“Didn’t you send him a text to say we’re working on breaking his Bond?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, but he wants details.” Dean groaned and slouched forward. His forehead thumped on the table. “What’re we going to say? I can’t even think of a good lie right now. Too tired.”

Firm hands massaged his shoulders, and Dean sighed.

“We’ll think of something,” Castiel said just as Dean’s phone stopped ringing. “At least he can’t get in here with the new wards in place.”

“We better hope he can’t.”

“He won’t.”

Warmth covered his back, and Dean felt lips at the back of his neck. He leaned into Castiel’s touch. “Can’t we go shopping later?”

“Nope. We need food.” Castiel playfully smacked his shoulder as he withdrew, leaving Dean cold.

Dean pouted. “You’re no fun.” But he dragged himself to his feet and stomped after Castiel as he headed out the door, tugging on a coat.

Outside, snow crunched under their feet as they traversed the sidewalk. The supermarket was close enough that they didn’t have to drive, and Dean was struck with deja-vu as they passed the alley where he’d first spoken to Castiel, just a few months ago. When Castiel smiled at him, Dean realized he’d been less than subtle about remembering, as nostalgia must’ve filtered through their Bond.

“Crazy, right?” Dean said, as he looped an arm around Castiel’s and tugged him close. Their breaths puffed in the air, and Dean felt less shitty for a moment until a voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Hello, boys.”

Dean stiffened. “Crowley.”

They turned around to find the demon standing behind them, blocking the sidewalk. He wore the same outfit from before, and his face was creased in its usual smarmy grin.

“Well aren’t you both cute. I think my heart just grew two sizes.”

Dean growled. “What do you want?”

Crowley held up his phone and shook it. “I do believe we had a deal, yet my business associate has been oddly difficult to get in touch with. You wouldn’t happen to know why he won’t take my calls, do you? Or perhaps he’s too busy doing his Witch like the naughty boy he is? I wonder if his bark is worse than his bite.”

“Screw you, Crowley,” Dean said.

“No thanks. I’m not into bestiality.”

Castiel stepped forward. “I believe Dean told you to screw yourself.”

“Oh. So the Witch can bite, too, huh? Huh.” Crowley’s face darkened as he jabbed a finger at Castiel. “You _do_ remember that I’m the only reason you’re standing right now? I believe _you’re_ the ones who owe _me_.”

Dean placed a hand on Castiel’s arm to draw him back. “He’s right.” _I don’t like it either_ , he added mentally. _But I did make a deal with him._

_So what are you going to tell him?_

Dean faced Crowley. “Alright. Here’s what we’ve got.” He paused.

“Well?” Crowley asked. “I’m waiting.”

Dean blew out a breath and willed himself not to fidget. “Okay. See how we look like crap? Well, the reason is because we’ve been experimenting with our Bond. A lot. If we can figure out how our Bond works, we can see what’s different about yours. Then we can...exploit those differences.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes. “And?”

Dean hesitated, and Castiel cut in, “Our Bond is chemically based. It’s a core facet of our biology. Your Bond is artificial, so it’ll be easier to break. We just need to know what’s being used to keep it together in place of the missing chemicals.”

 _Damn, that’s some mighty fine bullshit,_ Dean said mentally. _I almost believed you just now._

_Thank you. Your lie was good, too._

_You know, we’re shockingly good at this. Maybe we should consider a life of crime._

Crowley squinted at them. “So let me guess, you need me to do some more digging. Figure out the components of my darling old Witch’s spell.”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Once we determine what’s holding your Bond together, we can break it apart.”

Crowley huffed. “Fine.” He glared at Dean. “But when I call with the ingredient list, you pick up. I know for a fact your charming little family is here, all in one place, which makes it awfully convenient for something catastrophic to happen. Are we clear?”

Dean gritted his teeth. “Yeah. We’re clear.”

“Good. Oh, and one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know why my favorite pet Hellhound has suddenly gone missing?”

Dean froze. “Uh, no. Why would we know anything about that?”

Crowley’s lips twitched. “I guess you wouldn’t now, would you?” He flashed his teeth. “I’ll be back. Make sure you answer your phone.”

And then Crowley disappeared.

Dean’s shoulders fell. “Oh shit, that was close.” _How did we pull that off?_

_I’m not sure we did. We need to be careful about what we say and do from now on._

_For sure. Crowley’s not an idiot._

Great. Yet another thing to worry about. Dean ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Castiel’s arm dropped onto his shoulder, and he pulled Dean close. “We’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out,” he said, echoing Dean’s words from that morning.

Dean smiled and leaned into the sturdy presence of his Witch. “Yeah, I know.”

They arrived at the grocery store, and though Dean grumbled, Castiel steered them toward the produce section.

“We need fresh vegetables, Dean,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, yeah.”

As Castiel separated to check out the cucumbers, Dean wandered over to the deli where he found none other than Benny standing near the counter. Huh. He should’ve guessed Benny ate human food, too.

“Hey,” Dean said.

Benny turned around. “Well hey there, brother.” His grin faded as he stared hard at Dean. “You don’t look so good. I thought Bonding was supposed to make you better.”

“It does. It did,” Dean corrected with a wince. “Uh, me and Cas are deep into a heavy-duty spell right now. It’s...kind of taking a lot out of us.”

Benny grunted. “Heavy-duty, huh? Anything to do with all the demon activity that’s been going on?”

“Yeah.” He smirked wryly. “Hey, did you know that it’s not just Hell, there’s also a place called Purgatory, too? Isn’t that fun?” He snorted.

“Well yeah,” Benny said, his tone obvious.

Dean’s eyes widened. “Wait, you know about Purgatory?”

“You don’t?”

“Uh, no.”

“Ah. I guess that makes sense. Your people don’t usually go there, I don't think, but mine do. Purgatory is monster Hell. It’s where we go when we die. Vampires, werewolves, the works.”

“Well shit,” Dean said. A young mother shot him the stink eye, and Dean remembered that, oh yeah, they were standing in the middle of a human grocery store. Of course, talking about monsters and Purgatory hadn’t attracted attention, but as soon as Dean swore, that was it.

Dean shook his head. “Humans,” he muttered. He leaned in close to Benny, and the vampire followed suit.

“So what can you tell me about Purgatory?” Dean asked in a low voice.

“What’d you want to know?”

“We’re trying to get to Hell, and we heard Purgatory’s...kind of a back door.”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s about right. Lots of portals down there, if you know where to look.”

Dean squinted at his friend. “You speak as if from experience.”

Benny let out a humorless laugh. “You can say that again. I been to Purgatory and back.”

Dean felt his eyes bugging out of his head. “No way.”

How could he not have known? Then again, he and Benny had never really discussed their personal lives. At least, nothing personal from Benny’s side. Dean got the sense early into their friendship that the vampire had a lot of painful memories about his past, so he hadn’t wanted to pry. Rumor in town,though, was that Benny used to be part of a coven. But as long as Dean had known him, he’d been a loner.

Which begged the question of what had happened to his coven, why Benny had apparently been killed, and how he’d come back.

“So you died?” Dean asked. “What happened?”

Benny shuffled uncomfortably. “Not the place to discuss this, brother.”

“Then when? Or, I mean...you don’t have to spill any details about yourself. Just about Purgatory.”

Benny straightened to his full height and shook his head. “It’s dangerous in there. You sure you need to go?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Benny sighed. “You free tonight?”

“Um, yeah,” Dean started. “We’ve got some plans, but we can postpone them. What’re you thinking?”

They set a time and place, and Dean said goodbye before finding Castiel, who’d moved on to inspect some eggplants.

“How do you feel about eggplant parmigiana?” Castiel asked as he held up one of the vegetables.

“As long as it’s breaded and fried up, I’m game,” Dean said. “But we’ve got a slight change of plans for tonight. I just spoke with Benny, and he knows about Purgatory. It’s a lead on the second trial.”

Castiel slowly put back the eggplant. “And we’re cancelling on your family because?”

“Because they’ve got more intel on the _third_ trial. Plus, they’re exhausted.”

“And we’re not?”

“Well, yeah, but we volunteered for this. Like you said, we expected some kind of backlash. Doesn’t mean everyone else has to suffer for it.”

Castiel sighed. “Fine. What’s up for tonight?”

* * *

They met Benny in a back-town diner, where Dean happily ordered pancakes for dinner.

“What?” he asked, when both Benny and Castiel shot him odd looks. “I’m a grown-ass man and I want pancakes. Sue me, but that’s what diners are for. Breakfast 24/7.”

Castiel shook his head, a fond smile playing at his lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

 _But you love me_ , Dean said smugly.

_So help me, I do._

Benny snorted. “I can see what everyone means, when they talk about you two.”

Dean frowned. “Huh, what? Who talks about us?”

“Everyone. Says you make ‘heart eyes’ at each other because you’re mad in love. I get it now.”

Dean made an indignant noise.

Castiel cleared his throat. “We didn’t come here to talk about us.”

“Oh no? Because Dean comes to me all the time talking about you guys,” Benny said with a smirk. “Complaining, more like. Or being whiny.”

Castiel bristled. “Well I’m glad he has a confidant he can _trust_ , but we have more important things to worry about right now. What can you tell us about Purgatory?”

Benny sighed. “Alright. Here goes.”

And Benny told his story.

He’d been turned into a vampire over a century before by a man called The Maker, who’d formed a nest of new vampires. The Maker demanded absolute devotion from his nest, and kept them all in line to do his bidding.

They were pirates. They found private yachts, fed on their owners, and then sank the ships to destroy the evidence of their crimes. Benny was just doing his duty, like always, when he stumbled across a woman named Andrea Kormos. They fell in love, and being with her inspired him to change. He stopped feeding on people and opted for blood transfusions instead.

The biggest thing was that he abandoned his nest.

The Maker was not happy with that decision. He sent the nest after Benny, and they cornered him in Louisiana, where they killed him. Not only that, but the last thing he saw was his maker drinking from Andrea, either to kill her or to turn her.

“And then I woke up in Purgatory,” Benny said, bitter.

They’d gotten their food, or at least Dean and Castiel had, since Benny only ordered a coffee. It felt weird to eat while Benny told such a heartbreaking story, but Castiel assured him through their Bond that they needed to keep up their strength. Still, Dean found that he didn’t have much of an appetite. He couldn’t believe what his friend had gone through.

“So what’s it like in Purgatory?” Castiel asked, his voice quiet and respectful.

Benny’s gaze was far away. “Dull. There ain’t colors there, except brown for blood. Monsters attack you at every turn. You always gotta watch your back. It’s supposed to be a place for eternal punishment, until you go mad. I had a good system going and I managed not to die too many times.”

“You can still die down there?” Dean asked.

Benny nodded wearily. “Yep. And then you just appear somewhere else. It’s an endless cycle.”

“But you found your way out,” Castiel said.

Benny huffed a laugh. “Barely. Had to kill for that info.” He shuddered and then couldn’t speak. Dean’s heart ached at the slump in his friend’s shoulders.

“It’s late,” Castiel said eventually. “Why don’t we finish this conversation tomorrow, when we’re better rested and had time to digest?”

Benny scrubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”

They flagged down the waitress to pay their bill, then stood. Dean pulled Benny into a tight hug.

Benny clapped him on the back as they pulled apart. “You take care of yourself now, brother. You and your Witch.” He eyed Castiel and they nodded at each other.

“You, too, Benny,” Dean said. “Thanks. For everything.”

Benny’s lips twitched into a small smile. “‘Course. G’night. Stay warm.”

And Dean didn’t know it at the time, but those were the last words he would ever hear Benny say.

For the next morning, he was found dead, his head ripped clean off his body and the stench of sulfur strong in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for Benny :(
> 
> But this won't be the last you see of him, I promise!


	29. Chapter 29

“Dean, are you even listening? I think I know how to get you and Cas into Purgatory.”

Dean ignored Sarah and the others in the kitchen. With his head in his arms, he concentrated on sinking into the couch. He wished the fabric would absorb him so the guilty ache would go away.

Benny was dead. His friend, his co-worker, his confidant. He’d been decapitated and left right out there in the open, a few blocks from the diner where they’d last spoken. Victor had called Dean to the scene soon after noticing a second set of teeth, and Dean had showed up to see if he could identify the body. When he did, he promptly vomited onto the side of the street.

He knew Benny’s death had something to do with him. The demon, or _demons_ , that killed Benny were after Dean and Castiel.

Dean had gotten his friend killed.

And an obnoxiously selfish part of him was upset that Benny had died before revealing the most pertinent information on getting in and out of Purgatory. It was that part that had his stomach churning with shame and disgust.

“Don’t worry about talking to him,” Castiel told Sarah gently. “You can tell me.”  

The family was all there, save for Jess and Anna. Jess hadn’t been feeling well, so neither had Anna, and both girls opted to get some more rest in their hotel room.

“It’s not your fault, sweetie,” Mary said as she slid beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“He was killed by demons,” Dean said, even as he leaned into her. “The demons are only here because they’re after me and Cas.”

“They’re after _me_ ,” Castiel said.

“Don’t you start, too,” John said, rolling his eyes. He scraped his chair back and stood, his hands on his hips. “You can play the blame game forever, but that doesn’t change the fact that yes, your friend’s dead. But as terrible as it sounds, you now have an ally in Purgatory.”

Dean blinked at his dad’s blunt truth. “But we don’t even know how to get there—”

“Actually,” Sarah interrupted, “I think we do.” She pushed a book toward Castiel on the kitchen table.

Dean lurched to his feet and joined his Witch in the kitchen.

“A soul-locking spell?” Castiel asked after he’d scanned the page.

“Yeah. Lock yourself to a monster, and when it gets sucked into Purgatory, it should drag you along with it.”

“Sounds foolproof,” Dean said with a snort.

Sam glared at him and defended his Witch with a bitter voice, “I suppose you have a better idea?”

“ _Sam_ , jeez,” Sarah said as she squeezed his arm. “I know you’re worried about Jess, but don’t take it out on Dean. He’s hurting.”

Sam grimaced. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Dean said. He glanced at everyone else, lingering on his parents. “What do you all think?”

“Of Sarah’s plan?” Mary asked as she stepped into the kitchen. “I think it could work. It makes sense. Though what would happen to your bodies up here?”

“It’d be like dreamwalking, right?” Sarah asked Castiel.

He nodded. “Yes. We’d need someone to keep our bodies safe so we could return to them.”

“So I guess we have to hope Purgatory isn’t that big and we can find Benny—” Dean started.

A sharp knock sounded on the door.

Dean exchanged a glance with Castiel.

Was it Charlie again? But when Dean answered it, Gabriel blew inside followed by Kali in her human form.

“I heard about your vampire friend, Dean-o. My condolences. He made a mean gumbo,” Gabriel said without any preamble.

“Gabriel, what are you doing here?” Castiel asked.

“I’m here, _we_ ’re here, to help. The Angelus Coven needs to go down.” His usually joyous face was serious.

Kali mirrored his expression. “We want in. What can we do?”

 _Um, what do you think Cas?_ Dean asked.

_I don’t know._

“You sure about helping us?” Dean asked.

Kali smiled tightly. “We’re sure. Now spill.”

Dean blew out a breath. “Alright, well here goes.”

First, he introduced everyone, and then he quickly caught Gabriel and Kali up to speed with the abridged version of what was happening with the trials. 

“Are you crazy? That’s some serious mojo,” Gabriel said.

“It’s too late to go back,” Castiel interrupted. “All you can do now is help us finish them. If you don’t want to, then there’s the door.”

Kali growled at Castiel under her breath, but Gabriel sighed.  “I got that. What do you think?”

He and Kali had a silent exchange and then she relaxed. “Fine. So now what?”

“Now we make lunch,” Mary said. “Who’s hungry? I’ve got all the fixings for salami and cheese sandwiches.”

“Sounds good,” John said, and they got to work preparing lunch.

After they’d all sat down to eat, Gabriel spoke up with his mouth full. “So your plan into Purgatory sounds good. As long as the spell’s done correctly, you should be fine. Finding your friend in Purgatory, though? It’s monster Hell. The only person who could tell us what’s down there is...well, _down there_. You’ve got to be prepared for anything. Or…” He drew out the silence by waggling his eyebrows and then swallowing. “Oh, Mrs. W., your homemade mayonnaise is delicious.”

“Thank you,” Mary said. “Do you want another sandwich? I’ve got more salami here.”

“Yes please. And thank you.”

Castiel gave his brother a flat look. “Are you going to finish your thought any time soon?”

Gabriel took a huge bite out of his new sandwich and used it to gesture, sending crumbs flying. “Of course! I was just saying, you can be prepared, or you can _hide_. Which happens to be my speci-ality.”

“That’s great,” Dean said, “but we don’t know anything about finding the Hell portal or rescuing souls.”

“One step at a time, huh?” Gabriel said. “When you’re in there, you should focus on finding your friend. He seems to know his stuff.”

“But then how do we get to Balthazar?” Castiel asked.

“Your locator spell,” Sarah said. “It should be stronger when you’re down there. Like a homing beacon.”

“Of course,” Castiel said. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He closed his eyes.

“Because you feel too shitty to think straight?” Dean said. “Yeah, I got that.”

John eyed them both and shook his head. “I don’t like what these trials are doing to you.”

“Dad, you think _we_ do?”

“I just wish you had waited for us so you wouldn’t be stuck doing it all alone.”

Castiel smiled faintly at his words. “Thank you, John. But we’re not alone. You’ve helped us so much, and together, we’re going to end this. Once and for all.”

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, Dean and Castiel embarked on the second trial the day of the Winter Solstice.

As Witches and Familiars, the Solstice, also known as Yule, was usually a celebration held to mark the passing of the shortest day and to embrace the beginning of a new year. Like Samhain, all sorts of rituals were involved, including the preparation of altars, the burning of Yule Logs, and the invoking of elements, as well as feasting and praying. Normally, it was Dean’s second favorite holiday, but he wasn’t feeling it this time around.

What had started with coughing up blood morphed into cold-like symptoms. Chills wracked Dean’s body even as he retained a low-grade fever. Phlegm lodged in his throat, and he felt weak and achy.

As for Castiel, he was constantly nauseous and couldn’t seem to keep much down, save for slices of toast and the occasional cracker. His eyes also ran like faucets, so by the end of the day, they’d be red and swollen from him wiping them all the time.

General misery did not equate to holiday cheer, and luckily the family agreed that it wasn’t worth it to partake this year. Well, most of them.

Anna’s coven took the Winter Solstice very seriously, and it wasn’t something she could just opt out of. So, she’d taken Jess back to California to celebrate.

Dean tried to get Sarah and Sam to go with them, but both his brother and his brother’s Witch were stubborn.

“We’re here to help,” Sarah insisted. “That means seeing you through to the end of this.”

“We want to be here,” Sam added, though Dean caught him staring out the window every so often, his thoughts clearly on Jess. But she and Anna were safer where they were, and they all knew it.

“Sam, I’m going to need you to focus,” Sarah said, her eyes closed as she concentrated. She’d helped augment Castiel’s original locator spell, and now they were preparing the soul-locking spell. All that was left would be finding a monster and uttering the last incantation to prime its target.

Sam, as a Golden Retriever, flopped at Sarah’s side where she was crouched on the floor.

Dean was a German Shepherd next to Castiel, and his Witch in turn was holding hands with Sarah to channel their magic into the symbols painted on the floor of the guest room.

“Hey, I found a hunt near here,” John said, as he poked his head inside the room.

Dean glanced up, his ears cocking.

“Someone’s been digging up graves in the cemetery on the edge of town, and there’s an eyewitness who swore she saw her late husband rummaging in their shed last night.”

Sarah and Castiel breathed out simultaneously, and Dean felt a thrum run through him and through Castiel. The Witches opened their eyes and the pulsing energy faded into the floor, where the symbols flashed briefly.

“A ghoul?” Sarah asked as she stood.

“Think so. Will that work?”

“It should,” Castiel said. He lurched to his feet and needed Sarah’s help to support him while Dean transformed back into a human.

“Whoa,” Dean said, as he took Sarah’s place as an anchor for Castiel. “You think you can do this? You don’t look so good.”

“Pot, kettle, black,” Castiel said, sagging.

Dean huffed. “Let’s try to get some food in you, at least. Who knows what we’ll find in Purgatory.” _It’s not going to be a vacation._

 _Too bad,_ Castiel mused through their Bond. _We should’ve traveled before we started the trials. Now we’ll never get a chance at a honeymoon._

_Honeymoon? So we’re married now?_

_We might as well be._

Dean grinned as he propped his Witch up against the kitchen counter. Mary shoved some hearty soup at them, and they ate as much as they could. They spent the rest of the day relaxing and building up their strength before they all headed out to the cemetery under the cover of darkness. Even John and Mary tagged along, despite not having their Witches around. Dean knew they’d built up plenty of energy stores in order to maintain their powers, but he couldn’t imagine going on a mission without Castiel. Then again, Dean and Castiel had a unique situation with their whole Profound Bond and all.

When they arrived, Dean remembered that he had never much liked cemeteries. Honestly, who did? They were creepy as hell, especially at night, and in his dog form, the odor of death and decay made him sneeze. So, he opted for a bird form this time around, and just to be funny, he transformed into a Griffon vulture.

His mother followed his lead and also became a vulture. His dad and Sam had both transformed into Great Danes, and they’d sprawled over Dean and his mother in the backseat of his car on their way over.

They’d probably looked ridiculous, but at least it was (slightly) easier stuffing two people and two giant dogs into the backseat rather than four enormous humans.

Dean’s hackles rose as soon as he alighted on a nearby gravestone. He cocked his head and chirped as his mother settled beside him. She ruffled her feathers and then her neck shot up as her eyes fixed on something in the distance. Dean followed her gaze to movement, where it looked like a figure was digging up the ground.

Sam and John were also alerted in that direction, as they tensed and their ears swiveled forward.

 _There’s someone out there, over near those trees,_ Dean told Castiel.

 _I can’t see anything,_ Castiel said. “Sarah, can you see what they’re looking at?” he asked in a low voice.

“Barely,” she whispered. “Sam, John, do you think you can herd the ghoul over this way, so we can cast the spell?”

Sam whuffed and he and John shot into the darkness. They split up to circle back around the figure.

_Do we know for sure that the person out there is a ghoul, and not just a regular person?_

_A regular person who robs graves for fun?_ Dean returned, but he acknowledged Castiel’s point. _I’ll fly over to make sure._ He lifted off and his mother trailed behind him once Castiel told her what their plan was.

Soaring high above the cemetery, Dean kept his eyes locked on the shadow. As he floated closer, he heard the figure panting loudly, focused on its task of digging up a fresh grave with a shovel. The person/ghoul was either deaf or incredibly oblivious, because it made no indication that it was aware of their presence.

Dean circled lower, and finally caught a whiff. Ugh. Definitely a ghoul. The thing reeked of death, even though it looked like a balding middle-aged man.

 _It’s definitely a ghoul,_ Dean told Castiel.

_Good. I’ll let Sarah know._

Dean watched as his dad and brother approached the ghoul from the back. Sam started barking first, and then John joined in. The ghoul jumped in surprise and dropped the shovel with a thud.

John charged the ghoul, and the creature stumbled backward before breaking out into a run. Sam swept in from the side to keep it on course, right toward Castiel and Sarah, perched near their car.

 _Coming at you,_ Dean said.

 _We’re ready_.

Dean swooped ahead, beating his long wings until he’d caught up to the ghoul and zoomed above him.

Below, Sarah sprang into action. She darted out and tackled the ghoul to the ground, where it struggled feebly on its stomach. She was able to keep it pinned as Castiel stepped out to recite the last components of the spell.

Dean felt a tug, and knew it had worked.

He landed on the ground and transformed back into a human just as Sam barreled onto the scene. Sam helped his Witch by sitting on the ghoul’s feet while Sarah hung onto its back.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Mary and John appeared and transformed back into their human selves.

Dean nodded at them, and then at Sam in dog form before glancing at Castiel.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean asked.

Castiel nodded stiffly and straightened. “Yes. Do it.”

Sarah withdrew a machete from the back pocket of her pants. “Good luck, guys. We’ll see you soon.”

“We love you,” Mary said.

“Love you, too.”

Dean closed his eyes and squeezed Castiel’s hand.

There was a swish through the air, and the ghoul wailed. Its voice cut off with one more wet _thunk_ , and then Dean felt like he was falling, though his body hadn’t moved. He pitched forward into nothing as wind raced by him in a deafening roar. He kept his eyes closed, even when something shrieked, its voice inhuman.

He tightened his grip in Castiel’s until they landed on hard ground and were jarred apart.

Dean coughed as he sat up, his legs bruised from the impact. He and Castiel, plus the ghoul in its previous form, were in a sepia-toned forest of tall, straight trees. There was little vegetation, and the air felt thicker, more oppressive somehow. It was also gloomy, and the whole place smelled like blood, even to his less impressive human senses.

So it was official.

They were in Purgatory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing a little bit with the rules of Purgatory, so it won't exactly be what was presented in canon if that isn't already clear!


	30. Chapter 30

Dean and Castiel’s first step to finding Benny was to unhitch themselves from the ghoul that had been their express train to Purgatory.

The creature, still a balding middle-aged man, was slow on the uptake, so it was easy for Dean to pin it to the ground. In the meantime, Castiel staggered to his feet and spoke the counter enchantment that would undo the soul-locking spell. Then, all they had to do was get rid of it.

Dean turned to kill the ghoul as a dog, but found that he couldn’t transform. All his bird and canine forms eluded him, like they were blurry in his mind. He shook his head and chocked it up to exhaustion. He whipped out the knife he’d stowed in his pocket before leaving and quickly decapitated the monster. It snarled as it died, but a second after slumping, its body disappeared.

“Like a videogame,” Dean mused. “Weird.”

“The whole idea of monster Hell makes me wonder if this is where we go when we die,” Castiel said suddenly. “After all, some people consider Witches to be monsters.”

“No way. We won’t end up here.” Dean paused. “And if we do, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Castiel snorted. He reached into his pocket, and Dean did the same. His fingers closed over the rabbit’s foot that was Gabriel’s concealment charm. A tiny jolt of energy, almost like static electricity, crackled up through his fingers.

“Do you think it worked?” Dean asked. The charm concealed them from everyone—and every _thing_ —aside from each other, so they had no way of telling. Although Gabriel _had_ said they just needed to touch it to activate the charm, so they were probably good, right?

A twig snapped and Dean tensed. He hurried to Castiel’s side.

 _I guess we’ll get to test it_ , Castiel said as he reached out to clutch Dean’s hand.

A set of glowing red eyes approached them, attached to a furry creature Dean had only ever read about.

_That’s a gorilla-wolf. Holy shit._

The thing was massive, easily taller than both Dean and Castiel. It stood on four huge legs the size of small tree trunks, and a slender tail flicked up behind it. It paused to sniff at the air with a massive snout like a wolf’s, and though the creature squinted in their general location, it snuffled and then moved on, ambling off in the opposite direction.

Dean’s breath whooshed out of him when the coast was clear. _I never thought I’d say this, but thank god for your brother. I did_ not _want to have to fight that thing._

_Agreed._

It was good to know they could count on Gabriel to come through, even though he and Kali hadn’t wanted to get their hands dirty.

 _So now we find Benny,_ Dean said.

Castiel nodded. From his pockets, he removed the components for a tracer spell, the same one he’d used to find Charlie. He’d also brought with him a square of clothing they’d taken from Benny’s apartment, which was the necessary focal point for the enchantment.

Dean kept watch while Castiel set up, but it seemed it was taking much longer than usual to perform the spell.

“Uh, Cas? How’s it going?”

Castiel grunted in frustration. “My magic. It’s not working.”

“Huh?” Dean whirled around. His Witch was seated in his magic circle, the components in a ring around him.

“I can’t concentrate.”

“You too? Guess it’s not just me. I can’t seem to transform.”

Castiel worried his lip between his teeth. “But Gabriel’s magic worked.” He shoved to his feet.

“I dunno what to say. Maybe it’s the trials affecting us,” Dean said.

“Or maybe it’s just Purgatory.” Castiel’s shoulders slumped. “So how are we going to find Benny?”

Dean cringed. “Luck, I guess.”

Luck indeed. In a place this big, it’d be a miracle. But even though the odds weren’t great, Dean was determined. He _would_ find his friend, and if they could, they _would_ get him out, once they rescued Balthazar too.

Castiel gathered his materials and stowed them back in his pockets. “So we wander.”

“Yup.”

And they did. Purgatory was like an endless forest. There were only small differences in the sparse vegetation and tree types, and Dean knew they could easily get turned around in here. Thankfully, a short distance away, he heard running water and they came upon a stream that spat mysteriously murky water.

“Do you think we need to eat or drink?” Dean asked. “I mean, I’m not feeling hungry or thirsty right now.”

“I don’t know, but following water would be a good way not to get lost,” Castiel said.

“I’ll try it.” Hesitantly, Dean bent down to take a sip. He gagged. The water tasted like blood, and it felt almost gooey in his mouth.

Castiel’s lip curled in response to Dean’s disgust filtering through their Bond. “Let’s not stay long enough to need anything, if it comes to that.”

“Amen.”

They followed the stream for what felt like ages. The brownish-yellowish light didn’t change, so they had no sense of time passing. Instead, they focused on putting one foot after the other, trying to avoid the pitfalls that hid beneath layers of leaves.

In one spot, they rounded a bend and had to stop short at a Wendigo crouched along the bank. The creature didn’t appear to be moving anytime soon, so they slowed their pace.

And then Dean’s foot slipped on the mud and splashed into the water.

The Wendigo reared up, its nostrils flaring.

Castiel’s hand gripped Dean’s with bruising force as they held their breaths. When the creature sniffed the air, Dean had the horrifying thought that they would be exposed by their scents.

They lucked out yet again, but only because there was a screech in the distance, and the Wendigo ran off in its direction.

They crept forward once it’d left, their movements extra careful. Gabriel’s charm was great, but it had its limits.

Sometime later, human voices echoed from up ahead. Dean and Castiel stealthily approached a group of well-dressed monsters having what could only be described as a meeting, since they stood in a circle and spoke one at a time. Their language wasn’t English—it sounded like French, actually—and they gesticulated with bone weapons. Dean did all he could to stifle his breathing.

 _Move...very...slowly,_ Castiel said.

Dean nodded and was deliberate about each footfall. That is, until one of the creatures spoke a very distinctive word.

Benny.

Dean paused as his ears perked up. He wished he could understand what they were saying, but he didn’t know French. Still, this was a good sign.

 _Benny’s old coven?_ Castiel asked.

 _Maybe. Something probably ganked them at some point. Man, they sound pissed,_ Dean added, for the creatures had raised their voices and were now practically chanting Benny’s name—and not in a good way.

 _You thinking what I’m thinking?_ Dean asked.

_Follow them?_

_Damn right._

They had a lead, and hopefully they’d get to Benny first. Who knew where Benny’d end up in Purgatory if they didn’t make it in time.

The creatures did turn out to be vampires. As they trailed after them, it was Castiel who noticed their extra teeth when they turned to converse with each other. Dean could only hope that the Benny they were after was his Benny. It made sense, though, that Benny’s old coven would be out for his blood, so he guessed they were on the right track.

Following the vampires ended up being more energy-consuming than Dean expected, since they had to keep their distance and tread softly. He wished he could transform, because at least as a dog he could move quieter, but he just couldn’t focus his magic. It was maddening to not be able to access that part of himself now that he’d been Bonded and had grown so used to it always being there.

An hour later, Benny’s old coven veered to the left, and all of a sudden there was a sharp cry.

Dean’s eyes widened when several of the vampires disappeared into the ground.

 _A pit,_ Castiel said as he threw out a hand to stop Dean from going any farther.

 _Or a trap._ Dean flinched at the pained shouts. _I’m guessing there aren’t cushions at the bottom._

Castiel shuddered. _You do what you have to do to survive in here, I guess._

Four vampires remained on land. Two of them, a man and woman, knelt next to the opening to reach down and help their fallen comrades. The other two, both men, surveyed the area, their stances wary.

They were right to be cautious.

A blur of blue burst from the trees and tackled one of the vampires off his feet. A swiping motion decapitated him, and the attacker changed the arc of its bone weapon to embed itself in the chest of the other vampire guard.

The two that were kneeling at the mouth of the pit shrieked, but the attacker, revealed to be a large man, kicked out and sent them both careening into the depths with the others.

“You just stay there for a while, think about what you’ve done,” the man said, and Dean would recognize that Southern drawl anywhere.

“Benny!” he cried as he skirted Castiel’s hand and raced forward.

Benny glanced around as he wiped blood off his face. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Dean,” he said, just as he realized a flaw in their plan—with Gabriel’s charm in effect, Benny wouldn’t be able to see them. “I’m under a concealment charm.”

Dean stopped at the edge of the hole and grimaced at the sight. Several of the vampires had been impaled on spikes, and a few of them were still twitching, even as others disappeared. The lucky few who’d avoided that fate would perhaps suffer worse, since the pit was deep and the walls were too smooth to climb. They’d be in there for a while.

“Damn, that’s an impressive trap,” Dean said with a whistle.

The surviving vampires hissed and spat, cursing Benny as he moved back into the trees. “I must be losing it already,” he muttered.

“Wait, no, it’s me!” Dean lurched after him and grabbed Benny’s shoulder.

Benny stiffened as he glanced down at, to him, nothing. “Well, that’s new.”

“It’s true, what Dean said,” Castiel said as he jogged over to them. “We’re invisible.”

“Uh-huh. And might I ask what you two are doing here?”

“Getting you out, for one thing,” Dean said.

“And the trials,” Castiel added.

Benny huffed and shook his head. “You’re both outta your minds, but I guess we should talk, huh?” One of the other vampires said his name with a particularly nasty snarl and Benny just rolled his eyes. “Perhaps in privacy would be best.”

He trudged forward as Dean dug into his pocket and produced the rabbit foot. “Hold up, touch this and I think you’ll be able to see us.” He pressed the foot at Benny, and as soon as the other man’s fingers clasped it, Benny jerked backward.

“Oh. There y’are.”

Dean grinned. “It’s good to see you.” He pulled Benny into a hug.

Benny clapped him on the back. “And you, brother, though I wouldn’t wish this place on anyone. Sorry you had to get dragged down here. How’d you make the trip, anyways?”

They pulled apart, and as they walked, Dean and Castiel updated Benny on their progress.

“Mm, that’s real smart thinking, getting here the way you did,” Benny said, as they took a break behind a giant tree stump, all of them breathing hard. “Now I can help you with the rest.”

“So the portals and the spell to transfer souls?” Castiel asked.

“Yep. And we’re actually close to Hell’s back door. In case something happens to me, remember this: you gotta follow the stream to where three streams meet as one. There, you’ll find a bunch of rocks, and between those rocks is the portal.” He chuckled. “Last time I was here, I avoided that place like the plague. Purgatory was Hell, but _Hell_ …”

“Would be really bad?” Dean answered with a wince as he felt Castiel’s conflicted emotions slam through their Bond. They had no idea what they’d face trying to rescue Balthazar, but at least they were closer to completing this trial.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Benny said.

“So what about the spell to save Balthazar?” Castiel asked.

Benny pursed his lips. “You didn’t figure it out? Thought you smart Witches did all kinds of research.”

“We were busy figuring out to get here in the first place, and I am not familiar with how Purgatory works,” Castiel said, bristling.

 _Easy, Cas_ , Dean said through their Bond. Out loud, he added, “We couldn’t find much about the second trial at all, actually.”

Castiel released a bitter sigh. “So we came all this way and we might not be able to do anything.”

“Not true,” Benny said. “The spell to carry souls outta here is easy. The hard part’s getting to the portals alive.”

“Awesome,” Dean said. “Though I haven’t seen any monsters in a while—”

A low hissing sound filled the air.

Castiel stared at him, deadpan, and Dean didn’t need their Bond to hear Castiel’s exasperated, _You just had to say that, didn’t you?_

Benny stood and opened his mouth, where fangs dropped behind his set of human teeth. “Ready to have some fun?”

Dean brandished his knife and planted himself in front of Castiel. Without magic, he was defenseless.

 _I can still fight,_ Castiel said, annoyed.

 _I’m the one with the knife, so just stay behind me, okay?_ Having gone Unbound for so long, Dean knew how to fight as a human. It would never compare to what he could do as an animal, but it would have to do.

Though he wasn’t quite prepared to fight four enormous spiders that dropped down from the trees. They were longer and broader than Benny, with a black and furry hide, clacking mandibles, and way too many eyes and legs. Dean had never seen such huge spiders in real life, though he abruptly recalled a friend from one of their family road trips whose Familiar designation was arachnid.

_DEAN!_

Dean startled at Castiel’s mental scream and jumped backward just enough to avoid the swipe of one of the spiders that had charged him.

Damn it. The spiders could see him and Castiel. _Damn it._ Was it all their eyes or something?

The spiders were ungainly on the ground, and they appeared to have trouble dragging their massive weight around, which was a good thing except that their surprise advantage was enough. They surrounded Dean, Castiel, and Benny, and pressed in close.

“How do we kill these things?” Dean yelled.

But Benny was already on it. In another blur of motion, he jumped onto one of the spider’s backs and sunk his teeth into its neck. The creature bucked and thrashed, but Benny couldn’t be dislodged.

Dean wished he could transform, and suddenly felt infused with power.

_Cas? What’re you doing?_

_Take my magic and transform already!_

_But you won’t have any left!_

_There’s no time to argue! I'll be fine. Now go and make sure we don’t die!_

Dean let Castiel’s surge of magic flow through him, and this time when he concentrated on his forms, they popped into his head clear as day. Which one would be best?

He had to draw the spiders away from his Witch, so he tossed his knife to Castiel and became a Bald eagle.

Dean flew through the trees and curved back to rake his talons across the other spiders, two now that Benny had pounced on a second. The creatures trilled in pain, and Dean was glad his claws were sharp enough to cut through their thick skin. He beat higher into the air so he could dive-bomb them, but that unfortunately left Castiel exposed.

Castiel slashed out with Dean’s knife, but the spiders ganged up on him and slammed him to the ground.

Dean cut through the air, and just before he was on top of them, he became a German Shepherd. Following Benny’s example, he landed on one of the spider’s backs and tore at the thing’s neck, or at least what passed for its neck. The spider flailed, and Dean registered a sharp pain for a second. Oh god, what had gotten him? There wasn’t another one was there?

But the pain had come from Castiel, who was wrestling with the last creature. Dean couldn’t let go of his own, but he shouted through their Bond for Castiel to keep fighting.

Then Benny was there. Blood dribbled down his chin as he hauled Dean’s spider up, and then twisted its head off in a powerful motion. Dean slid down the twitching creature’s back and raced over to the last spider that had collapsed on top of his Witch.

He returned to his human form. “Cas!”

Together, Dean and Benny rolled the spider to the side and revealed Castiel, covered in blood but with Dean’s bloody knife clutched upright in his hand. Like they’d done with the Hellhound, he must’ve gutted the thing from below, since the spider wasn’t moving anymore.

Dean offered Castiel a hand. _You hurt? Anything broken? I felt your pain._

 _Just a scratch_ , Castiel said as he showed Dean his forearm, where a thick but shallow cut bled freely. Dean ripped off part of his shirt to bandage Castiel’s wound. His Witch was low on magic, so he’d take a bit longer to heal and needed all the help he could get.

Benny spat a glob of viscera to the ground. “What the hell was that? You two gotta do better, or something’s gonna kill you and you ain’t gonna come back.”

Dean scowled and finished patching up his Witch. “What are you talking about?”

“Brother, that was a godawful fight. If you hadn’t found me, you woulda been dead. You two don’t get it, do you? This place is out to kill you. You can’t let it.”

“We didn’t,” Dean said hotly, although...he and Castiel _had_ reacted slowly, and their fighting had been out of sync. The trials were seriously messing them up.

“I guess that means we need to get to Hell as soon as possible,” Castiel said as he stood and swayed.

Dean braced his Witch. “You shouldn’t have given me your reserves like that.”

“You needed them,” Castiel said. He blinked, and Dean frowned at the glossiness of his eyes.

“You okay?”

Castiel nodded. “I’m fine. We need to go. Now.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These Purgatory chapters have been very difficult to write...glad I got this one done!

Three rugarus, a pair of vetalas, and one wraith later, Dean, Castiel, and Benny arrived at the portal to Hell. Blood and dirt splattered their bodies, hiding dark bruises and scrapes that still bled sluggishly.

Dean now understood what Benny meant about Purgatory being monster Hell. They had been jumped at practically every turn. Or, well, Benny had, and there was no way Dean was letting him fight alone, despite the vampire’s superior skills and strength. Dean and Castiel might not have been at peak condition, but their invisibility thanks to Gabriel’s concealment charms gave them an edge, and they used it to help their friend.

Though, unfortunately, that didn’t mean they were able to avoid injury or regain the energy they’d lost. By the time they’d reached the rock cluster hiding the portal behind it, Dean was seeing stars, and his lungs were so tight he could barely catch his breath.

Castiel wasn’t faring much better. In fact, he had paled considerably and couldn’t seem to walk straight. Dean had to hold him up so he wouldn’t collapse into the stream.

Stupid Cas for giving Dean his magic.

“You two don’t look so good,” Benny said. “Sure you don’t want to wait, maybe rest up before you face Hell?”

Dean thought that was a great idea, but Castiel was adamant.

“We need to rescue Balthazar,” he said, his voice steely. “He’s already been in Hell for too long. And I don’t think we’ll get better if we stay here.”

 _You sure about this?_ Dean asked through their Bond.

_No, but what choice do we have?_

Dean frowned, but then relented. “Yeah, we gotta go. Thanks, Benny.”

“Don’t thank me yet, brother.” Benny glanced at Castiel. “You remember the spell?”

Castiel nodded. Benny had taught Castiel the process and spell to transfer souls on the way here. It sounded like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to Dean, but he had to admit that, unlike other enchantments, this one seemed shorter and easier to recite. Hopefully, when it came down to it, it’d be easy to save Balthazar and release him back to where he belonged.

“Alright then.” Benny faced the rock cluster. It was comprised of three vertical stones slightly shorter than them. Benny bent his knees and heaved the outermost one out of the way. As soon as it toppled to the side, wind threatened to suck them all inside the dark opening.

Benny moved away from it. “There ya go! I’ll be waiting here when you get back,” he said over the rushing air.

“Be careful, Benny,” Dean said as he angled him and Castiel toward the portal.

“Good luck!”

Dean and Castiel stepped toward the portal, and as soon as they were close enough, it swallowed them up.

 

*****

 

Dean and Castiel stumbled out of a door and into what appeared to be a medieval dungeon. Cobwebs cluttered the ceiling, and various moans echoed down the winding stone corridors. Barred cells lined either side, some filled with filthy occupants or rotting skeletons, while others stood empty, waiting. Liquid dripped somewhere in the darkness as Dean led Castiel over to a torch sputtering on the wall. The whole place stank of rot and decay, which made Dean gag.

This _is Hell?_ Dean asked. _A bit cliché, don’t you think?_

_Very cliché._

_So which way to Balthazar?_ They stood at an intersection with four branches, and Dean peered down each one. He wished it was better illuminated, though he supposed it could also be a blessing, since he might not want to see what was down there.

Castiel pulled away from Dean to stand on his own. He closed his eyes, most likely to focus on his locator spell.

Dean shivered. He flinched when a pain-filled cry rent the air. _How’s it looking, Cas?_

Castiel opened his eyes. _I’ve got him._ With a seemingly renewed burst of energy, Castiel darted down the eastern path and Dean chased after him, trying to keep track of each turn they took.

They whipped by countless suffering souls—men, women, even a few kids. All of them were dirty, and they twisted their long arms through the cell bars to try to grasp Dean and Castiel. Which was great, because apparently, Gabriel’s concealment charm didn’t work in Hell. Awesome.

Dean cringed away from the groping souls, but a couple of cold fingers managed to scrape across his skin. Dean yelped and covered his ears when some of them shrieked after him. One woman in white kept repeating the same haunting words, over and over again, and Dean sped up to get out of range.

He was so distracted that he didn’t realize Castiel had stopped until he bumped into him.

Dean steadied himself and followed his Witch’s gaze into what appeared to be an empty cell.

“Where is he?” Castiel asked. “He should be here.”

Dean stepped around Castiel and grabbed the door. It rattled and then opened when he tugged. “Well, it’s open? Maybe he’s hiding in the dark.”

“Balthazar?” Castiel asked softly as Dean let himself into the cell to investigate, Castiel right behind him. It smelled wet, like mud, and Dean nearly slipped on the muck that was the floor.

“Um. Balthazar?” Dean echoed. He spotted a swath of extra blackness wedged in the far corner and crept toward it. “Hello?” A small patch of dark fur revealed itself as Dean got closer. He extended a hand.

A chilling screech burst out, and then something warm and furry launched itself onto Dean’s face, where it dug in with sharp, tiny fingers. Dean screamed, but the sound was muffled in the thing’s body. Dean tore at it, but the creature remained attached, even when he swung around to fling it off.

“Balthazar! Balthazar, it’s Castiel! It’s me!”

A harsh chattering filled the air and then hissing before it grew quiet.

The creature dropped to the floor, and Dean gulped a gratefully cool breath. His face stung, but he focused his attention on his Witch.

Castiel knelt next to a tense raccoon, his arm outstretched and his eyes earnest. “Balthazar? It’s me. I’ve come to get you out of here.”

The raccoon was ratty, its fur matted. Saliva dripped from its mouth. Was it rabid? Could it even understand them?

But then the creature reached out and placed its hand in Castiel’s, and Dean’s Witch released a sob.

“Oh Balth, I’m so, so sorry,” Castiel said. His eyes overflowed with tears. “You didn’t deserve this. I wish I’d known. I would’ve tried to get you out earlier. I’m so sorry.”

The raccoon, Balthazar, shook his head. Then, he craned back his neck to indicate Dean before shifting his shoulders in the approximation of a shrug. Castiel seemed to understand him.

“Oh,” Castiel said, sniffling. “That’s my Familiar, Dean. He’s a dog and bird designation.” He paused. “He’s my true Familiar. We have a...Profound Bond.”

Balthazar squinted at Dean, then nodded as if in acceptance.

“Can you transform?” Castiel asked.

Balthazar held up a finger and then shooed Castiel away.

Castiel backed off to join Dean, and they watched as, in the blink of an eye, Balthazar the raccoon became Balthazar the human. He was a tall, bedraggled man with blond hair and ripped clothes. His grimy face lit up with a smile.

“Cassie,” Balthazar said with a British accent, “My gods, Cassie, it’s really you.” He swept forward and slammed Castiel into a hard embrace. They beat each other on the back even as they wept openly.

Dean stood apart to give them their reunion. His own eyes misted at the feeling of unspeakable joy and relief that coursed through his Bond from Castiel.

They pulled apart and for a second, they were all happy.

Then tortured wailing drifted down the hallways, and they remembered where they were.

“We need to go,” Dean said, trying for gentle but sounding blunt, possessive even.

Balthazar tried to talk, but his voice wouldn’t work. He cleared his throat. “Where did you two even come from?”

“Purgatory,” Dean said. “We’re completing a spell to close Hell’s doors for good.”

“Part of the magic required saving an innocent soul from Hell,” Castiel added. “I couldn’t let you suffer anymore.”

Balthazar laughed, though it was a broken sound. “Well thank you. I appreciate it, I suppose.” For a moment his face was lined with pain, then he forced a grin. “Sorry. It’s harder to take everything in as a human. Being a raccoon was easier.”

“I’m surprised you can even transform here,” Dean said. “I had trouble changing in Purgatory.”

Balthazar grunted. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. Now shall we get out of here?”

“Yes, please,” Dean said. “This way.”

Dean guided them back the way they’d come, glad he’d paid enough attention to remember the journey. He marked the checkpoints as they came.

Horrifying skeleton? Check.

Gooey puddle of unidentified liquid? Check.

Creepy-ass girl in white? Check.

“Left here,” Dean said.

Castiel shuffled alongside Balthazar. “I’m glad we found you. I missed you, Balth.”

Balthazar sniffled. “I missed you, too. And apparently a lot’s happened. I mean, look at you! You’re older, and you even got yourself Bonded. Congrats.” He paused. “Just how long have I been down here?”

“Too long,” Castiel said. “But that’s over now. You’ll be going to Heaven once we get you out.”

“Ah. That sounds good. I could do for some rest.” His voice broke.

Dean glanced back. “What’d they even do to you down here? We haven’t run into any demons or anything.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel admonished, but Balthazar answered.

“The torture’s mental, not physical, and after a time it stops being creative. I thought you were both part of it, at first, which is why I attacked, but then I saw Cassie and he was older. Not like my hallucinations, which are always the younger version I saw right before I died.”

“Balth, I’m so—”

“For goodness sakes, Cassie, stop apologizing, would you? We _both_ agreed to try to Bond, and it’s not your fault I ended up here. It was the coven.”

“Which I’m not part of any longer,” Castiel interrupted. “I couldn’t be, not after what they did.”

“And now they’re doing something even worse,” Dean said. He told Balthazar what was going on, and the other Familiar just laughed again.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me at all with how bloody desperate they always were. But I see Cassie managed to escape and something good came of it, so that’s all that matters.” Balthazar looked at Dean. “So what clan are you from, then?”

“I’m the eldest of the Winchester-Campbell line.”

Balthazar whistled. “Well, well, well. You both lucked out. And you can be two designations?”

“Yup.”

“Very impressive.” He turned to Castiel to stage-whisper, “And he’s quite good-looking, too.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but he could feel his Witch blushing.

After a beat, Balthazar chuckled. “Oh ho, don’t tell me it’s _that_ kind of Bond?”

“So what if it is?” Dean returned, glaring at him over his shoulder.

Balthazar held up his hands. “Apologies to my rescuers. I meant no offense.”

“Good,” Castiel said. “Because I love him.”

Dean’s throat grew tight. _Cas…_

_I mean it, Dean._

_I know you do._

“Wow, a Profound Bond indeed. Are we there yet?”

“Yeah, we are actually.” They halted at a wide, wooden door. “This is it. Brace yourself for Purgatory.”

He threw open the door and wind sucked them back through.

Dean squinted in the sudden brightness of Purgatory compared to Hell. They were back where they started, though Benny was nowhere in sight.

“Benny!” Dean called.

The vampire emerged from the trees. “You made it.”

“Yeah, Hell wasn’t that bad, actually. Go figure,” Dean said.

Benny eyed Balthazar. “So this is him?”

“Yes, this is me,” Balthazar said. “And you are?”

“The name’s Benny. Before you ask, I’m a vampire, and I’m on your side.”

“Oh really? Then why are you in Purgatory?”

“He’s Dean’s friend,” Castiel said. “And we’re going to get him out, too. He knows the way to the portal.”

“Yeah, so which way back to earth?” Dean asked.

“Y’all lucked out. It’s not far. Follow me.” He disappeared back into the woods, the others on his heels.

“And how did you come by this information?” Balthazar asked. His lip curled probably in response to Benny’s appearance, which was bloodier than before Dean and Castiel had traveled to Hell.

“Some talkative fellas, what can I say?” Benny said without shame.

Dean shuddered. It was awful what you had to do to survive down here. And torture was the last thing he would wish on anyone, be they the tortured, or the torturer.

Benny weaved through the trees, his bone knife brandished before him. He told the others to keep their eyes peeled, and Dean tried to ignore the way Balthazar huddled close to Castiel. He knew their attempted Bond wasn’t anything like the real one he and Castiel had, but it still rankled. If they’d gotten it right, Castiel would’ve ended up with Balthazar forever, and Dean would be lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

Then again, that could still happen even while Bonded, because Purgatory wasn’t exactly a safe place.

They made it to the portal fairly quickly, and knew they were in the right place when the leaves rustled without wind. The portal sat atop a rocky ridge, and it appeared like a rip in the air. Searing blue-white light poured out while air rushed toward it. The closer they got the more the light streamed out, and a buzzing sound filled Dean’s mind.

“There it is,” Benny said, pointing.

“Why’s it pulsing like that?” Balthazar asked.

“It’s reacting to you humans. Only humans can pass through it,” Benny said.

“Huh,” Dean said. He was about to add more, but twin trails of black smoke whizzed through the trees and slammed into the ground in front of them, blocking their way forward.

At the head of the group, Benny snarled, “Leviathan!”

Leviathan? What the heck was that?

Each plume of smoke became black goo that materialized into the form of two human women in fancy suits. Dean didn’t know what made them monsters until one of the women craned her neck back and her face became a gaping maw filled with jagged teeth.

“Holy shit,” he said, and Balthazar echoed that sentiment with a colorful curse of his own.

“Head for the portal!” Benny said. He rushed ahead to square off against the Leviathan.

Dean hesitated. A flare of pain caused him to whip around, and he saw that Castiel had reopened the cut on his arm with Dean’s knife.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Castiel said to Balthazar. “Now be at peace, my friend.”

“And to you, Cassie,” Balthazar said. “Thank you.”

Castiel spoke the spell Benny had taught him, and Balthazar gasped. The other Familiar turned into fiery orange light, which flowed toward Castiel in a funnel. The light siphoned into the wound on Castiel’s arm and nestled there, like a burning patch of skin.

Castiel cradled his arm and staggered toward the ridge. _Dean, hurry! Come on!_

_But Benny... Just go! I’m right behind you._

One of the Leviathan had tackled Benny to the ground. The other circled around toward Castiel, who was stumbling up the embankment. Benny scrabbled for his weapon, which had fallen just out of reach. Dean lunged for it, and behind him, crackling filled the air.

“Dean!” Castiel called.

 _Go!_ Dean said, _I’m coming._

Dean’s fingers clasped the hilt of Benny’s bone knife and with one stroke, he lopped off the head of the Leviathan pinning Benny to the ground. Black blood sprayed everywhere. The creature’s head went flying as its decapitated body slumped backwards. The buzzing from the portal intensified until it throbbed through Dean’s head. He gritted his teeth.

And then it all stopped.

Dean’s heart exploded in his chest, or at least that’s what it felt like. He dropped to his knees and turned to see what had happened. His mouth fell open.

The portal had disappeared, taking Castiel along with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got to be honest with you guys - I might have to take a short hiatus or two from this story. I didn't get much done over break, and classes start tomorrow. In my writing program, I'm editing my thesis rather than writing fresh pages, so it takes a lot more effort, which means less energy for fanfic, unfortunately. 
> 
> So, if I don't update for a few weeks, don't panic! I will NOT abandon this story. Thanks for your patience, and I love you all <3
> 
> (Sorry for the cliffhanger again, haha!)


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, I updated! You can thank my internet for being down last night! Also, a short break was all I needed to get back into this. Now to power through to the end!

Dean was in shock. His body felt simultaneously hot and cold, and his chest panged like something had scraped out his insides.

Dimly, he was aware of Benny dispatching the last Leviathan, but it was quiet. Too quiet. His Bond was silent, but he was still alive, so that meant Castiel had survived the trip back to earth. That was a good thing.

But where had the portal gone?

And then it occurred to him. Dean’s world tilted sideways.

Witches and Familiars weren’t monsters, but they weren’t completely human either. When Castiel had transferred his magic to Dean so he could transform, he’d made himself more human. Witches were closer to humanity than Familiars; after all, without their magic, they were just like regular people.

So when Benny said the portal was responding to humans...that had only meant Castiel, and maybe Balthazar, but not Dean, because as a fully charged Familiar, he was too magical to be counted as human.

Dean couldn’t breathe. He _ached_ for his Witch, for their Bond, for anything Castiel. But he was alone, so he floundered on the ground, his fingers curling over dirt and stones.

It was funny, though. He and Castiel had gambled a lot in coming to Purgatory. They’d pretty much entered it blind, hoping Benny would provide the final answers they needed. Turned out, even with Benny’s help, they wouldn’t have made it out unless they drained their magic first. In the end, sheer coincidence had saved them.

Well, it had saved Castiel, and Balthazar.

“Dean, you alright?” Benny asked. His face swam in Dean’s vision as he knelt beside him.

Dean trembled. “N-no. Don’t think so.”

“Can you stand?” Benny helped Dean sit up. “What happened?”

In halting words, Dean explained his theory, and Benny let out a curse.

“I’m sorry, brother.”

“Don’t be. Not your fault.”

Dean hugged his chest as Benny stood.

“Come on. We need to get some cover. There’s a cave not far from here.”

Benny hauled Dean to his feet, and together, they staggered over to the shelter Benny had found. _Cave_ was a strong word, though, because it was more of an indent in the stone that provided maybe a few feet of coverage. On the plus side, it was hidden behind several large bramble bushes. Dean wouldn’t have noticed it had Benny not pointed it out when they arrived.

Shoving through the plants and swearing as the thorns raked his skin, Dean stumbled into the cave and collapsed onto the ground. Shivers wracked his body and he curled up into a ball. It was like he was going through withdrawal. Would his Bond actually kill him, now that he and his Witch were in separate realms? Perhaps it wasn’t an immediate death, but a long, drawn-out process. What a comforting thought.

At least he knew how to fix this. He just needed to use up more of his magic so the portal would see him as human. Of course, that meant transforming, and then he wouldn’t be able to speak to Benny, but what other choice did he have?

Benny landed beside him and wiped sweat and blood from his brow. “That didn’t turn out how we planned, huh?”

“Nope. Though I think I know how we can still get out of here.”

“I’m all ears.”

Dean told Benny his thoughts, and his friend agreed.

“But you can’t use up too much magic. You’ll need to be able to transform back into your human self in the end. You can’t be a dog, or the portal won’t recognize you.”

“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.” Dean sighed. His eyelids fluttered closed as he slumped to the ground. “I gotta use up my magic, though. What’ll help you most?”

Benny grunted. “Probably a dog. They can smell enemies coming and also rip out their throats.”

“Mmhmm. Been there, done that. How about a Boxer?”

“Sounds good. You get some sleep, now. I’ll keep watch.”

Dean coiled his magic together and shifted. He would’ve protested that Benny sleep first, since he’d done most of the fighting, but when Dean rested his head in his paws, he immediately drifted off. It only occurred to him at the last second that Castiel might be able to dreamwalk with him.

Except that when he woke up some time later, he had no memories of encountering his Witch. Castiel probably couldn’t cross realms with his power, even with an augmenting spell. Damn. At least he hoped his magic levels had decreased, though it was hard to tell.

Dean lifted his head and his nostrils flared. Wait a second—he was alone. Dean’s ears swiveled as he picked up movement just beyond his little enclosure.

Benny?

Shit. Benny wasn’t alone.

Dean almost burst out of the cave, but he forced himself to stay back. He was too late. Leviathan had surrounded Benny, and Dean watched in mute horror as one of them ripped out his friend’s throat. Blood sprayed, and Benny collapsed. Dean just barely stopped from barking in outrage, not wanting to draw attention now that he was alone.

Oh god, what was he going to do? He had promised to get Benny out. He couldn’t just leave him here.

He had to find Benny.

The Leviathan drifted off, and Dean cautiously poked his head out of the shelter. He lucked out in that Benny hadn’t died instantly, so his body remained where the creatures had left it. Dean got in a good whiff before it dematerialized.

Man, Dean was so done smelling the stench of death in relation to his friends.

Dean stuck his nose to the ground, which was a mistake. It just smelled like blood. Luckily, he’d stored Benny’s scent in his memory bank so he wouldn’t lose it. Of course, that didn’t help when the ground provided no helpful hints. He’d just have to strike off in a random direction and hope luck would be on his side again.

 

* * *

 

 

With no differentiation of the days, Dean had no idea how long he wandered Purgatory. Time lost meaning as he searched for his friend. He dodged all sorts of monsters, most of which were only confused and not hostile if they caught a glimpse of him as a normal-looking dog. So, thankfully, he wasn’t bothered.

But the nights, or maybe the days, ate at him.

Castiel’s departure had left him feeling hollow, but with Benny gone, too, Dean felt like he was losing himself. Sometimes, he’d go for hours (days?) without a rational human thought. It was all _track sniff jump hide run track_ until he snapped himself out of the trance. But each time, it was harder and harder to return to himself, especially since the loneliness wasn’t so bad when he gave in to his animal instincts. Then, it was just survival, and he didn’t have to face his worries or fears or desperate hopes that he would find Benny in this godforsaken place, or somehow return to Earth in one piece and land back in Castiel’s arms. It all seemed too good to be true, and anxiety churned in his gut.

Would he be stuck in Purgatory forever, alone, until he eventually slipped and some monster offed him? Or worse: would he die and find out that he belonged in Purgatory all along, as Castiel had once pondered?

Dean shied from those thoughts and focused on his mission. At least with his tracking abilities, he knew he wasn’t going in circles, despite how similar Purgatory appeared in every direction. The gross part was that he knew he could retrace his steps based on the various tints of blood in the air and the ground. Since it was all he could smell, he started to pick apart the differences, and was fairly confident he could return to the Earth portal ( _if_ it was still there). The trail went something like: vampire, ghoul, werewolf, djinn, rugaru, vampire, vampire, vampire… Well, it made sense to his dog brain. Thinking of it in human terms made it seem like he was going crazy, which wasn’t that surprising.

At one point on his journey, Dean came upon a fully transformed werewolf. The creature fixed its beady eyes on him, and he knew, instinctively, that this wasn’t a battle he could win, even in the body of a strong, fighting dog. So he turned and ran, but of course the werewolf chased after him.

Dean’s heart slammed in his chest, and his leg muscles clenched. Foam dripped from his mouth, and that’s when he finally thought _screw it._ Remembering his mother’s sparrow form as she flitted through Bobby’s kitchen, he shifted into his own version and flew out of reach. There, on the spindly branches of a tree, he let his breathing return to normal. The idea of being a small, camouflaged bird turned out to be a good one, too.

He had yet to encounter any other birds, so he’d stick out to some monsters when they noticed something small in the air, but he’d be able to fly right over their heads, so who cared, right? Score one for Dean.

Dean closed his eyes and tucked his head under his wing. How long had it been since Benny was killed? A day? Two? The longer he spent in animal form, the more his energy flagged. So what did that mean for Castiel? How was he faring back on Earth?

Dean fell asleep with thoughts of his Witch swirling through his mind. Which probably explained why, when he woke, he unfolded himself, opened his eyes, and thought he saw Castiel waving at him in the distance.  

But wait…that _was_ Castiel.

Dean chirped and fluttered down from the tree. He’d spent so long as an animal that taking the form of a human again was…weird, to say the least. He felt strangely tall as he loped forward, ungainly in this shape.

Castiel ran to meet him as Dean called out with their Bond, though the realm-jumping and Dean’s dimming magic must’ve prevented his words from going through.

“Cas,” he said, and boy was his voice hoarse. He hadn’t used it in forever. He coughed to clear his throat, then grinned wide. Jesus, it was so good to see his Witch. “Was worried about you,” he croaked as they stopped a few paces apart. Castiel looked healthier than ever, or maybe that was only an illusion because he was wearing clean clothes.

“How’d it go with Balthazar? Are we good with the second trial?” Dean asked.

“Balthazar is good,” Castiel said. “The second trial is complete.”

“Really? I didn’t feel it like the first time.”

Castiel shrugged. He stepped forward to tug Dean into an embrace. “I was worried about you, too,” he breathed into Dean’s neck.

Dean nuzzled into him, though maybe he really was going crazy, because Castiel smelled kind of weird, off. Though, that was probably because Dean was so used to the tang of blood.

They pulled apart and Dean asked, “So how’d you get here? Sammy and Sarah come up with a spell or something like that?”

“Something like that.” Castiel’s face softened as he brushed his fingers down Dean’s face. “I missed you so much.” He leaned forward and Dean mirrored the movement. He wanted Castiel’s lips so badly.

“DUCK!”

Perhaps it was the trace of wrongness screaming at him from the back of his brain, or perhaps he subconsciously recognized the voice, but Dean obeyed the command: he ducked. A weapon sailed over his head and embedded itself in Castiel’s chest.

Castiel’s eyes bulged, and as he stumbled backward, his form wavered until he was a horrible, wrinkly creature with hollow eyes and a gaping mouth.

Dean shrank back, gagging, as the thing—a siren in its true form—thrashed and then stilled. It vanished, taking the weapon with it.

Dean braced his hands on his knees as he bent over to retch. How could he be so stupid? He would’ve fallen under its spell for sure if it hadn’t been for…

“Saved you again, brother.”

“Shit, it’s good to hear your voice,” Dean said as he wiped his mouth and straightened. He grinned.

Benny smirked at him. “You’re really not that good at this whole Purgatory thing, are you?”

“Says the guy who died, what, twice now? Three times? I’ve been hauling ass looking for you.”

“I’m touched. Thought you would’ve left. Then I heard some werewolves talking about a pretty bird they saw flying through the trees.”

Dean snorted wearily. “Yeah, that’s me. A pretty bird.” He blinked, his vision suddenly spotty. “Whoa. I think my magic’s pretty good and depleted. Nice timing.”

“Not so much. The portal’s halfway across Purgatory.”

“Of course it is. I don’t know if I’m gonna make it.”

“We’re gonna try. Come on.” Benny hooked his arm over Dean’s shoulder and half-carried, half-supported him as they headed back the way Dean had come.

“So what happened to you?”

Benny half-shrugged. “Woke up, fought some monsters, looked for you. Not much to the story.”

“Hope you didn’t run into your coven again.”

“Naw, got lucky.”

“You, lucky?”

Benny huffed. “Shocking, I know. But I have a good feeling about this.”

“Hold on, stop for a second.” They paused. Dean separated from Benny to stalk over to a tree, where deep scratches gouged the bark. Only, they looked fresh, and they spelled words. “Am I nuts or does that say, ‘ _Get ready, we’re going to get you out?_ ’”

Benny joined him and squinted. “It definitely says that.”

“That wasn’t there when I passed this tree the first time.”

“You sure you just didn’t notice?”

“Yeah. It’s new. Is it…for us?” Dean gasped as the words started to glow. Numbers appeared; a countdown from 15. “Oh god! Quick, you gotta get in my arm. What’s the spell?”

Benny frantically walked Dean through the words as he passed him a small but sharp rock he’d picked up. Dean hissed while he opened a cut on his arm.

“You got it?” Benny asked.

“Think so. Let’s do this and hope we’re both not totally losing it.”

Benny clasped his wrist, and after a nod, Dean intoned the spell. His arm vibrated and heat shot to it, like it was on fire. He clenched his teeth around the pain, and turned away at the blinding light of Benny’s soul funneling into Dean’s arm just like Balthazar had done with Castiel.

With only a few seconds to spare, the wound sealed until Benny was a fiery shape under Dean’s skin. He swore at the oddly hot sensation, but he didn’t experience it for long. Another blinding light overwhelmed him, but this one came with a sense of movement, like his body was stretching.

_Dean!_

A voice was calling his name. Dean had to go to him, to his Witch. He relinquished control, and his feet left the ground of Purgatory as he sailed through a tunnel of light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience and understanding. I really appreciate it. I just needed to get some distance from this story, and I think I'm okay to keep writing now!
> 
> Going forward, I will try to update as frequently as I can, but it won't be weekly like before. Thanks for sticking with me! <3


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some long overdue sexy times~

Dean’s body sagged with weariness, so much so that he couldn’t open his eyes. His eyelids were too heavy, and he was sinking. It was like he’d run a marathon, then bench-pressed a truck. Not only that, but his ears rang with a high-pitched buzzing, which he would’ve thought was a fly except it remained a constant, annoying presence.

At least whatever he was lying on was soft, and someone warm was next to him. Castiel? But Dean couldn’t even summon the energy to speak. Worse, he couldn’t find it in him to try their Bond. Oh god, he could barely feel his magic. Were they dying?

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” That was his mom’s voice.

“This isn’t just a result of their separation,” came a woman’s voice, his mom’s Witch, Missouri. “It’s the second trial.”

“But only Cas completed it.” So John was there, too.

“Doesn’t matter,” Missouri said. “What affects him affects Dean, especially with their Profound Bond. They’re in it together, till the end.”

“Which means?” Mary asked, a tinge of fear in her voice.

Missouri sighed. “I don’t know. I really don’t. All I see is black and white in their future.”

Heavy footsteps trod into the room. “Jess and Anna aren’t picking up their phones,” came Sam’s declarative voice. “Something’s wrong, I can feel it. Something bad happened to them.”

“Just calm down,” John said. “I’m sure they’re fine. They’re far removed from this whole thing.”

“I should’ve had Gabriel make them concealment charms,” Sam interrupted. “They’re in California, but that doesn’t mean they’re safe. What if something got to them? What if they’re—?”

“Sam, honey, it’s going to be okay,” Mary said. Cloth rustled as she must’ve moved to comfort him.

Dean toned out their voices as he let his body sink into the soft comfort of his bed. At least he wasn’t in Purgatory anymore. He drifted off.

When he next awoke, he sensed that he and Castiel were alone in their room. Dean felt marginally better, so he shifted onto his side and cracked open his eyes. He jerked in surprise, because Castiel was already awake and watching him.

“God, that’s creepy,” Dean said, though his words slurred a bit. He relaxed and let his own gaze wander over his Witch. It must’ve been afternoon, with the way the sun slanted into the room. Castiel looked exhausted, with heavy bags under his eyes and greasy, unwashed hair sticking up in all directions. A scraggly beard covered his chin and neck, and he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in days. Then again, Dean felt pretty funky himself. Dean had no idea how long it’d been since he got out of Purgatory, but it didn’t matter. He was home, and he was safe. Who cared if he wasn’t clean?

Castiel reached out a hand and stroked it down Dean’s cheek. _I’m so glad you’re alright._

Unbidden, tears welled in Dean’s eyes at Castiel’s voice in his mind. For some reason, he thought they’d lost their Bond, or it’d grown weaker somehow. But no, it was the same. His magical stores were just low.

 _I’m sorry I left you_ , Castiel continued. _I’m so sorry._

_Not your fault. I’m just happy to make it out of there._

Castiel scooted over so he could tuck his head under Dean’s chin. With his fingertips, he swirled patterns over Dean’s chest. _I really thought I’d lost you._

_You can’t get rid of me that easy._

Castiel sniffled. _Gods, it was awful. I could barely breathe. I emerged in the wilderness of Maine, and you weren’t there with me. I was alone, but somehow I managed to release Balthazar and complete the trial._

_Good. I’m guessing that’s why we feel extra shitty?_

_Yes. I think I’ve been catatonic since then. I can’t remember. Your family must’ve found me. I don’t know how I got here._

_Who cares? We’re okay now._ Dean carded his fingers through Castiel’s hair. _It’s funny. Ran into a siren in Purgatory who looked just like you._

_What happened?_

_Benny saved my ass—shit, Benny!_ Dean sat up, jarring Castiel away from him. He exposed his arm, but the fiery soul of his friend was gone. “Oh no,” Dean breathed. “It should’ve worked. Why didn’t it work?”

 A knock sounded on the door, and it opened to reveal Dean’s mother. She let out a relieved sigh as she clutched her heart. “Thank god. You’re both awake.” She approached the bed. “How do you feel?”

“What happened to Benny?” Dean held up his arm.

“It was Pastor Jim,” Mary said. “He found a way to transfer Benny’s soul to another conduit. He and your father left for the morgue not too long ago to repair Benny’s body and then return his soul to it. He should be fine.”

Dean blew out a breath. “Good. He doesn’t deserve to be down there. We’ve got to find a way to make sure he won’t end up there again.”

“That’s for another time,” Mary said. She stopped at Dean’s side and gently pushed him back down. “You and Cas need to rest. Get your energy back.”

 _I’m not sure how much energy there is to regain,_ Castiel said through their Bond. _I don’t think we’ll ever return to 100%._

Dean swallowed. _Yeah, it definitely feels that way._ Out loud, he said, “Thanks, Mom.”

She smiled. “Do you need anything before I leave you to it? Water, food?”

“Both would be great.”

“Alright. I’ll see what I can find.” She left, closing the door behind her.

Castiel curled back up to him, and though Dean wanted to stay awake for his mom’s delivery, he couldn’t resist the pull of exhaustion. He fell back under.

But this time when he opened his eyes, he felt…great. Replenished, whole, practically brimming with energy.

Dean was in a wide, grassy field. Warm sunlight streamed from above him, and a brisk breeze blew. In the blue sky, kites drifted through the air, though they had no tethers. Their tails splayed behind them, and their strings undulated in the wind.

Castiel stood a short distance away, his trench coat flapping and his neck craned back to take in the kites. Dean headed toward him, and it clicked that they were in a dream, especially with how clean and healthy they both looked.

“You shouldn’t waste your magic like this,” Dean said.

Castiel faced him. “I have enough. And sometimes I can’t help it. I wanted to stop feeling terrible for one second.” He smiled up at the sky, and Dean followed his gaze.

“This is a weird dream-scape. Nice, but weird. Where are all the people holding the kites?”

“Don’t need them. It’s my dream, and I see what I want.” Castiel’s expression softened. “I’ve always loved kites, how simple and peaceful they are in the air. I used to play with them as a child, with Balthazar. We would see whose could stay up longest. Sometimes we’d be out in the fields all day, and when we got home, our mothers would yell at us for worrying them.”

Dean smiled. “Maybe Balthazar’s remembering that in Heaven.”

“Maybe.” Castiel’s smile dimmed. His face grew lined. “Dean…I don’t think we’re going to make it out of this alive. The trials, I mean. I felt… _gutted_ after releasing Balthazar and saying the spell. I can’t imagine coming back from anything worse, and we still have one trial left.”

“Yeah. I kind of figured that, too. But what can we do?” How funny that even after Bonding, he would still die before his 26th birthday.

Castiel closed his eyes, and his shoulders hunched. “I’m sorry I pushed you into this.”

“Cas, you didn’t. I agreed. I thought, and still think, it’s a good idea. We’re saving people, like your coven.” Dean stepped forward to lift Castiel’s chin. Castiel opened his eyes to regard him.

“As crappy as this is,” Dean continued, “I believe that what we’re doing is right. And I know you do, too.”

Castiel gripped Dean’s hand and pulled him forward till they crushed their chests together.

“I’m so grateful that I found you, Dean Winchester. I’m so grateful that we Bonded. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, you giant sap.” They kissed, and maybe Dean was just imagining it, but he felt electric, like touching Castiel gave him more energy and power.

Castiel pulled off his lips to nuzzle Dean’s neck, which sent fire to Dean’s cock.

“Oh shit,” he breathed as Castiel sucked at his pulse point. He swayed, his knees suddenly weak. “Are we going to have some awesome dream sex now? Please say yes.”

Castiel withdrew, his pupils large and filled with lust. “Do you want to? I can make anything happen.”

“Sex would be…yeah.”

Castiel responded by burrowing back into Dean’s neck, licking and sucking until Dean’s rushing blood made him see stars.

When Dean blinked, he noticed that there was now a king-sized four-poster bed in the field, right in front of them. His Witch was so powerful, it sent shivers up his body. “Damn, that’s hot. How does this work?”

“It will feel like it would in real life, though better, since we’re not affected by the trials here.”

“Sweet.”

Castiel brushed his hands up and down Dean’s arms as he slowly pulled him toward the bed. “Tell me what you want. We can do anything, though we’ll be restrained by what you can imagine.”

“Aw, so you can’t become a tentacle monster and fuck me silly?”

Castiel turned beet red. “I…I _could_ but you’d have to accept such a thing for it to work.”

“Dude, I’m kidding. I just want you. Fuck me?”

Castiel hit the edge of the bed and sank down onto the mattress. “Of course. Anything for you.”

Dean grinned. He pushed Castiel until he was lying back, and then crawled on top of him. They awkwardly scrambled toward the middle of the bed so they weren’t hanging off the end. Dean, bracketed over Castiel, bent to kiss him deeply. Castiel arched off the bed to meet his lips, and their tongues tangled as it grew more heated.

When Dean separated them, he laughed at Castiel’s pout. “Can you imagine us naked now?”

Castiel frowned. “I can only imagine myself naked, unfortunately.”

“Do it.”

In a heartbeat, Castiel’s clothes had disappeared. He lay under Dean, his body tanned and muscled, lithe yet strong. Dean slid his hands over Castiel’s thighs. _Fuck_ they were thick and corded with muscle. Dean could imagine his powerful thrusts, and his gut churned with heat. His filling cock made his jeans tight.

“Want a striptease?” he asked as he tugged at his shirt.

Castiel’s eyes, if possible, darkened. He licked his lips. “Always.”

So Dean gave him a show. With agonizingly slow movements, he sank back onto his haunches and lifted his shirt off one arm, then the next, before tossing it away. He undulated his stomach a bit, even though his abs weren’t as defined as Castiel’s. Still, he knew his Witch appreciated the movement, as he could feel Castiel’s growing desire through their Bond. Castiel especially liked it when Dean rolled his hips while he unbuttoned his jeans and exposed the hard line of his cock through his boxers.

Dean sat up to shimmy off his jeans, which was far less graceful than he’d intended, but the tension remained heavy, intense. When Dean was finally down to his boxers, he slipped a finger under the waistband and teased Castiel with a peek before snapping it back into place.

“I will tear those off you with my teeth,” Castiel growled.

Dean’s cock twitched at the low register of his Witch’s words. “I thought I was the growly one.” Dean winked, and then paused as a thought occurred to him.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, abruptly concerned as he propped up on his elbows.

“No, it’s nothing bad. I’m just…I’m going to change something really quick. I think I can do it, I just need you to close your eyes.”

Castiel squinted, but leaned back and let his eyes close.

Now it was Dean’s turn to concentrate on altering the dream. He’d done it before in his own dreams, but never when he was consciously aware he was dreaming. Now, it was a matter of remembering what it felt like, what _they_ felt like…

And there they were, snug over his cock. Instead of boxers, he now wore lacy, pink panties with little bows at the top. The back was just a thong, and it was so tight, it dug into his hole, which made Dean shift and his cock rub against the silky fabric stretched over it.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he said as he squeezed himself through the panties. He hadn’t worn them in forever. Of course, he’d been a bit busy so who could blame him? But oh, he’d missed these babies.

Castiel groaned, his eyes still closed. “Whatever you did, I _feel it_.” His cock strained upward, purpling at the bulbous head where pre-come dribbled out.

“Open your eyes, beautiful,” Dean said, his voice husky with his own arousal.

The instant Castiel obeyed, Dean shuddered and had to clamp a hand over his cock to not explode before the party even started. Castiel’s lust was so strong, every nerve ending in Dean’s body hummed.

Castiel licked his lips again, panting. “Dean, you look… I had no idea you liked… So perfect.”

Dean smirked. “Broke your brain, huh?”

Castiel’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I want you.”

“You can have me. I’m yours.”

“Mine.” Castiel surged forward and attacked Dean with his mouth and hands. The roughness of his palms sparked over Dean’s skin as their tongues battled. They were pressed so closely that their cocks met, and then it was a matter of swiveling their hips to keep up the friction.

“Oh god,” Castiel gasped. “Panties. Feels so good.”

“You like?”

Castiel didn’t respond, but instead sent another roaring pulse of _need_ through their Bond. It was so powerful Dean actually swooned, and Castiel caught him. They switched positions as he lowered Dean to the bed.

“How do you want this?” he asked.

“This is nice, but…I want to ride your cock.”

Castiel’s breath hitched. “Okay.” He turned to grab something, and apparently he’d made magical lube appear, because he now held the bottle in his hand.

“We don’t need a condom,” Dean said in a sudden realization. “This is all just a dream.” His mouth fell open. “Does that mean we won’t have a refractory period?”

Castiel grinned wickedly. “We shouldn’t stay here too long, or your family will worry that we’re not waking up. Plus, I shouldn’t use so much magic. But, to answer your question, yes.”

“So I can fuck you after you fuck me?”

Castiel nodded and honest to god winked. “And I’m already ready for that. See?” He scooted around to show Dean that a sparkly blue butt plug was already stretching his ass.

“ _Shit_. When did that happen?”

“I just thought of it.”

Dean shook his head dazedly, a smile tugging his lips. “This is amazing. _You’re_ amazing. Why didn’t we do this before? Dream sex is _awesome_.”

Fluffy pillows and a second headboard appeared behind Castiel, or had he flipped the bed in his dream?

Castiel positioned himself back against the pillows, his cock jutting up and to the side. Dean shuffled around to face him. The butt plug was still partially visible, and Dean could see that he liked it there, as he shifted and clenched his muscles around it.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby, but first, you’re gonna fuck me,” Dean said. “Think you can do that, big boy?”

Castiel nodded, already gasping. His cock twitched against his thigh as he passed the lube to Dean.

But Dean couldn’t wait anymore. He took the lube and chucked it out to the field.

“I’m just going to imagine I’m ready, right? Shouldn’t be hard.” He snorted at his unintentional pun. He closed his eyes and thought about what it felt like to have his hole prepared for a cock, the thick fingers that’d have to be stuffed inside, stretching the muscles and making the nerves on his rim burn with equal parts pain and pleasure. He could feel the lube dripping in his hole and then down his crack, making him soaking wet and so ready for more. His hole gaped and fluttered as he opened his eyes. Heaving up onto his knees, he rested over Castiel, his Witch’s cock brushing his chest. He grabbed Castiel’s hand and forced him to rip away the panty thong and inspect his waiting hole.

“What do you think?”

Castiel emitted an inhuman whine as he rubbed Dean’s hole and then dipped his fingers inside. “You’re so _open_. Incredible. Most people don’t catch on to dreams like this.”

“It’s only because I have you here to help me.” Dean smiled then sat up so he and Castiel were perpendicular. His ass hovered over Castiel’s balls, and he reached down to give them a squeeze before gripping Castiel’s cock. He guided it to his hole and sank down enough for the head to pop in without resistance.

Castiel’s eyes rolled back into his head, and Dean smirked as he sat quickly, impaling himself. Castiel cried out as he was buried in Dean’s body, and then it was time for Dean to lift himself back up and down, riding his Witch’s cock into oblivion. His thighs burned with the effort and the way his abs crunched had him breathing hard, but having Castiel inside him was everything. He was thick and filled Dean completely, sliding through the lube to massage his inner walls. When Dean angled just so, Castiel’s cockhead hit his prostate and he jerked with the intense pleasure that zinged through him. 

He bounced up and down a few more times before Castiel took over. Dean’s Witch planted his feet on the bed, and fucked up hard with his hips, nearly dislodging Dean. He managed to hold on to Castiel’s waist just in time, and then Castiel really let him have it. He pistoned into Dean without stopping.

Dean loved his vantage point. He got to see Castiel dripping with sweat, and the rippling of his muscles, including those glorious, beefy thighs, as he fucked. He had no idea Castiel had this much strength in him, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Dean didn’t know if Castiel was using his dream powers to maintain his endurance, but before long, Dean began to float away on the sensation of pleasure. He didn’t know how long it would last, but the haze he found himself in was incredible. He’d never felt so perfect in his life, and this wasn’t even real life, technically. It was much better, because Dean could control how sore his ass got. He was thinking he’d leave it a little bit, just as a reminder, when Castiel finally started to slow. His rhythm fell apart as he thrust erratically, and then finally, Dean felt Castiel’s cock twitch inside him and that was all folks.

Of course, their Bond also helped them out. Dean hadn’t touched his own cock, but with Castiel’s release inside him and his Witch’s orgasm reverberating through their Bond, his own orgasm built and he let go with a loud moan. Come splattered Castiel’s chest, and some even landed on his face, with one bit dangling from his hair. Dean would’ve laughed at how ridiculous Castiel looked, but their Bond was screaming with pleasure and he could only bask in it, his brain cells fried.

At some point, he found himself lying on his back with Castiel curled up beside him on their giant bed. The mattress perfectly conformed to his body, and Dean had never more felt like he was drifting on a cloud.

He opened his mouth, but words couldn’t describe his emotions.

 _Just sleep,_ Castiel said _. I’ll wake us up shortly for round two._

_And we’ll be both be recovered?_

_If you imagine so, then yes._

_Hell yeah._

And so the afternoon went. As promised, Dean got to fuck Castiel next. There was something about bareback, doggy-style that invigorated Dean more than anything else, as he plunged into Castiel’s tight, wet heat. Maybe it was how Castiel trusted him, or how, around the sexy endorphins, unabashed love filtered between them, but Dean had never felt so satisfied before. It went bone-deep, straight to his core, to the atoms that comprised the deepest parts of his being.

Castiel was it for him. Castiel was his world, his everything. Even though they were barreling toward their own deaths at a breakneck speed, he couldn’t regret this. Not ever.

They managed to make it two more rounds before Castiel shook him awake.

“We have to get up for real, now. Someone’s trying to wake us in the real world.”

Dean groaned. “Do we have to go? I like it here.”

Castiel kissed him on the forehead. “I’m afraid we do. I’ve already used more magic than I should’ve.” He smirked. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“I don’t blame you. This was…” Dean met Castiel’s gaze. “I love you. More than anything, ever.”

“I love you, too. I will always treasure my moments with you.”

Dean swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Time to wake up, huh?”

“Yes, it’s time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank several snow days for giving me time to write this! YAY Connecticut weather!


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for my ongoing readers - I had an idea to add pictures for each animal that the Familiars turn into in this story. I've added them to each instance in the previous chapters, and will continue to post them for the chapters to come. I think it's fun to have an image in your mind of what they look like, especially since not all breeds are that common/known! They're not perfect representations (some genders are mixed up) but it's there to give you a general reference point. 
> 
> (I recommend checking out chapter 15, since that had The Run of the Familiars for Samhain - lots of animal pics!)

As much as Dean wished he could bask in the dream he’d had with Castiel, the instant he awoke, it was chaos.

“Dean, Cas, wake up, wake up!” came Sarah’s urgent voice as Dean’s eyes flickered open. She knelt beside him, her hand on his shoulder. “Oh, good. We’ve got a situation.”

Dean groaned as he sat up. His stomach lurched, and heavy achiness once again filled his limbs. He’d forgotten how shitty he felt in the real world, and now it was attacking him with a vengeance. He shoved his general crappiness to the back of his mind as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“What’s going on?” he asked, or he attempted to, since he had to clear his throat to get his voice working right. He managed to repeat the question coherently, though it grated on his vocal chords. He rubbed his throat with a grimace as Sarah explained.

“It’s Gabriel. He sent us a message.”

Castiel joined Dean on the side of the bed. The way he swayed slightly, and the deepening hollows beneath his eyes, made him look hungover. “What did he say?” Boy, if _Dean_ had thought his voice sounded bad, Castiel’s was wrecked.

“Apparently Michael found him.”

And just like that, Castiel went rigid. His eyes bulged. “ _What?_ ”

Sarah nodded. “Yeah. That’s why I’ve been trying to wake you up. It’s kind of a big deal.”

Dean stood and winced as his knees creaked. How long had he been in Purgatory? “Is Gabriel okay?”

“He’s fine. But he said he needs you both there. Stat.”

Dean offered his hand to Castiel to help him up, and as soon as they touched, he registered how hot Castiel’s skin was.

“Shit, Cas, you’re burning up.”

“I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are!”

“And you’re any better? We just have to work through this. We don’t have any other choice.”

Dean swallowed, which of course made his throat flare with pain. He coughed. “Alright, alright, let’s go before we both keel over.”

Missouri was the one who drove them, since she had her car parked outside Dean’s apartment. Mary had been in the living room, so she replaced Sarah as she escorted them downstairs and into the backseat, then took the passenger’s seat next to her Witch.

“Sarah’s not coming?” Dean asked as Sarah waved them off from the doorway. “And where’s everyone else? Sam, Dad, Pastor Jim?”

“They’re working on something else right now,” Mary said as Missouri started the car and pulled into the road.

Dean scowled at her answer. A memory niggled at him. “Wait. Is something wrong with Jess and Anna? Just how long was I in Purgatory?”

From the front, Mary answered, “You were gone for two weeks.”

“Two weeks? It felt a hell of a lot longer than that.”

“Because time doesn’t change down there. It just feels like one long, continuous day,” Castiel said.

“So how are we not worse off, since we’ve been catatonic?”

“Magic,” Mary said. “We kept you both hydrated and fed, but Castiel wouldn’t wake up after we found him. Not until you came back. We were able to tap into his dreamwalking magic for the spell that finally yanked you out, but…it was touch and go for a while.”

Dean absorbed that. He’d lost two weeks of his life to Purgatory, and his birthday was now right around the corner. Would he even live long enough to see it? “So how long have Jess and Anna been MIA?” he asked at last.

Mary sighed. “A few days. We’ve been trying to get in touch with them, but so far we’ve heard nothing. Your father and Pastor Jim are working on a locator spell now, while Sam is…”

“Panicking in my spare room?” Dean had wondered why the door was closed.

Mary nodded. “I’m sure they’re fine.” The tightness of her voice didn’t make her words comforting.

 _Dean_ , Castiel said. _What if Crowley saw through us and sent some of his free demon friends after them?_

Dean swallowed. He’d just had that thought himself. _They know how to ward themselves and they’ve got each other. I’m sure they’re fine._

Neither of them remarked on how flimsy the words were, though in all honesty, what could they hope to do? He and Castiel weren’t long for this world. They didn’t have it in them to travel all over the country searching for Sam’s mate and her Witch. They had to focus on what they _could_ do while they had time left, and trust that their friends could take care of themselves.

It sucked, but like Castiel said, they didn’t have any other choice.

Their arrival at Gabriel’s café happened suddenly, and Dean realized he must’ve been mentally drifting for a few minutes. He couldn’t remember when it started, which freaked him out, but he couldn’t let it affect him. He and Castiel were about to enter into a potentially bad situation, and he needed his brain power for something bigger, something more important.

“We’ll wait here,” Mary said through her open window as Dean and Castiel got out of the car.

“What’re you two going to do?” Dean asked, shivering in the January air, colder now that the sun was going down. He and Castiel had practically slept the whole day away.

“I’m going to see where your father’s at and let him know what’s going on here.”

“Gabriel’s message was calm,” Missouri said. “You two aren’t in danger.” She pointedly tapped her temple. Ah, so she’d foreseen that they’d be safe. That was good, at least. Weird that the bigger situation right now was Jess and Anna and not the leader of Castiel’s old coven.

“Thanks,” Dean said. He kissed his mom’s forehead and then, with Castiel, jogged across the street to Gabriel’s café.

Inside, the place was empty save for a booth with two occupants—Gabriel, who was facing them, and a hunched figure with unkempt, graying hair facing the opposite direction.

Gabriel gestured for them to come over. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean caught sight of Kali in the form of a tabby cat pacing the counter. Despite the tense flicking of her tail, Gabriel appeared at ease, even jovial.

He slid out of the booth when they approached. “Here, take my spot. I’ll grab you two some of my magic brew. You look like you could use it. Oh, and welcome back to the land of the living.”

Castiel and Dean took up his position and finally got a good look at Gabriel’s companion.

Michael looked like hell, though Dean guessed he and Castiel couldn’t talk. Still, it was as if he’d aged thirty years. His face was lined, his eyes dull, his posture sagging. The words ‘dried husk’ popped into Dean’s head, and he marveled that he had once feared this guy when now, a small wind could probably knock him over.

Was this what would’ve happened to Dean if he’d suffered complete magical depletion? He shuddered at the thought.

“Michael,” Castiel said. “What are you doing here? How did you find Gabriel?”

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy on the invalid,” Gabriel said as he returned with two steaming mugs. Michael already had one in front of him, though it didn’t look like he’d tried any. Dean gratefully accepted the warmth and set down Castiel’s for him.

“Turns out Mikey here was getting desperate,” Gabriel continued. “He found Kali first, only because he was wandering through town asking after me or you, Castiel. You can imagine he freaked out a lot of people, so when Kali noticed him, she came to me and I helped him back here.”

“So it was just dumb luck?” Dean asked.

“Yep,” Gabriel said. He pulled up a chair to the booth and straddled it. He grabbed Michael’s cup of coffee and took a sip. “Give my magic some credit here. He just got lucky because he knew Castiel was in this town and figured I was, too. Isn’t that right, oh great leader?”

Michael said nothing.

“What do you want?” Castiel demanded after a stretch of silence. “Why are you here?”

“I need your help.” Michael even _sounded_ like an old man. His voice wobbled and his breaths were loud and scratchy as he wheezed.

Then Michael’s words sank in, and Dean just barely prevented himself from vaulting across the table to throttle him. But this was Castiel’s fight, not his, so he blew on his mug and idly drank some of Gabriel’s coffee. Mm, he’d forgotten how good it was.

“You want my help?” Castiel said, and Dean could sense an impending explosion. “ _My_ help? After what you did to Balthazar? You killed him. And then you cast his soul to Hell! Why would he deserve something like that? Why would I help you?”

“Please, Castiel. That wasn’t my doing. That was Lucifer’s.”

Castiel scoffed. “I can believe that. But you can’t honestly tell me you’re ignorant to what he does. You knew _exactly_ what he was doing, and you chose not to stop him.”

Michael’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Castiel. I should’ve done more.”

“Oh, you’re sorry? That’s wonderful. But you know what? You shouldn’t be saying that to me. You should be saying that to _Balthazar_. You’ll get to tell him soon, since he’s in Heaven. Or actually, maybe you won’t, because you might not be destined for Heaven anymore.”

Dean smirked. _Nice_.

But Castiel wasn’t done. “Consorting with demons certainly won’t get you there. You’ve damned our whole coven to Hell!”

Michael’s face paled. “I know, alright? What do you want me to say? It was a mistake. I should’ve known the magic wouldn’t work right. I should’ve known the demons would take advantage of us. I was a fool.”

“So now what?” Dean interrupted. “You’ve fucked over your whole coven—especially everyone Bonded with demons.”

Michael’s eyes flicked to Dean. “I can’t believe I couldn’t even sense that you were Bonded when we had you. You, the infamous Dean Winchester.” He shook his head, releasing a long breath. “I came here because I need help. Lucifer won’t listen to me. He’s in too deep. And now the demons…they’re starting an uprising.”

“How is that possible?” Gabriel asked. He’d been tipping back his chair, but now he leaned forward, abruptly serious. “There’s still _some_ Bonding magic in place.”

“Demons have a remarkable capacity to sniff out loopholes, no matter what their Witches order them to do. Or not do,” Michael said. Dean knew that was true from their experience with Crowley.  

“Michael,” Castiel said, a strange tone to his voice. “Where is your demon? Where is Abaddon?”

Michael closed his eyes. “I’m afraid I’ve lost control of her. I believe she’s recruiting an army.”

“What?” Dean blurted. “A demon army?”

Michael opened his eyes and nodded, his expression one of complete misery. “I know it’s all my fault. That’s why I need your help to stop it.”

“And what do you expect us to do?” Gabriel asked, his eyes hard.

“I heard talk that a major spell’s in the works.” Michael indicated Dean and Castiel. “And with the way you two look, I’m thinking the rumor’s true.”

“Where did you hear this?” Castiel asked.

Michael shrugged. “Around?”

“Anyone in particular? Think.”

“It might’ve been Raphael, or his demon…”

“Crowley,” Dean breathed. “Shit.” Jess and Anna really were in danger. It felt exactly like Crowley’s style to attack two women—one of whom was pregnant—who were apart from the rest, just because he knew how much it’d hurt the people back home.

Just then, the door of Gabriel’s café burst open and Mary and Missouri streamed inside.

“We gotta go,” Missouri said. “Something bad’s coming. _Now_.”

Dean knew better than to question Missouri’s abilities. He stood and Castiel joined him.

“What do we do?” Dean asked.

“We’ve got to get somewhere safe,” Mary said.

“Pardon me, Mrs. Winchester, but my café is warded,” Gabriel said, also on his feet.

“I’m sorry, hun, but it won’t be good enough,” Missouri said. “The demons found a way past the old wards. They’ve got their Witches’ magic on their side now.” She narrowed her eyes at Michael like she knew exactly who he was despite a lack of introduction.

“The best place now is Bobby’s house,” Mary said. “He has a panic room that should keep you two safe if we need it.”

“Me and Cas?” Dean said. “They’re after us?”

“They know about the trials,” Castiel breathed out.

“No way. How? I thought it was just rumors?”

“Does it matter?” Castiel said. “They’re going to try to stop us.”

“Most everyone’s already there,” Mary said. “They were working with Bobby and Rufus.”

“Come on now, get a move on,” Missouri said. “We can fit you all in the car if you transform.

“Wait, Michael’s coming with us?” Dean asked.

“Where else can he go?” Castiel said.

“Alrighty then,” Gabriel said. He nodded at Kali and she jumped into his arms. “Do you know more about the bad that’s about to hit us?”

“Demons,” Missouri said. Her eyes glazed over for a second. “A dark sky of demons.”

“Sounds fun,” Dean said.

Just before heading back outside, Mary shifted into a Robin and perched on Missouri’s shoulder.

Dean thought a bird sounded like a good idea right now, so he opted for a small owl—a Northern Saw-Whet.

It surprisingly wasn’t hard to transform, despite the bashing his magic had taken after being separated from Castiel. Dean fluttered up onto his Witch’s arm and let Castiel carry him to the car, where they all piled in—Castiel and Dean in the front with Mary and Missouri, and Gabriel, Kali, and Michael squished in the back.

Dean kept his eyes peeled for any signs of demons, but he didn’t see anything as they drove to Bobby’s.

There, Bobby and Rufus, in human form, met them at the porch.

“So how many of these things am I gearing up for here?” Bobby asked. He loaded rounds into a shotgun and passed it to Rufus.

“A lot,” Missouri said. Mary was still latched onto her shoulder as she headed inside.

Dean hung onto Castiel’s arm as they stepped onto the porch.

“Hold on just a second,” Bobby said, as he threw out an arm to block Gabriel, Kali, and Michael behind Dean and Castiel. “I think I know two of these rugrats, but the third one ain’t familiar.”

“That’s Michael, former head of the Angelus Coven,” Castiel said over his shoulder.

Bobby and Rufus reared back in surprise, but eventually relented as they let them enter the house.

Inside, Dean transformed back to his human self to help double-check all the warding and salt lines. Even the smallest gap could allow an infestation.

Meanwhile, Mary was back in her human form, trying to get in touch with Sam and Sarah. She paced the living room, a phone to her ear.

John and Pastor Jim emerged from the basement, both of them wielding rifles.

“How is shooting a demon going to help?” Dean asked as his dad pushed a gun into his hands.

“They’re bullets packed with salt,” John said. “It won’t kill them, but it’ll slow them down.”

“Plus we’ve got some exorcism recordings,” Pastor Jim said, as he held up a tape recorder. “Hopefully it’ll be loud enough.”

“Just…stay there then,” came Mary’s voice, worry evident in her tone. “Be safe. I’ll check in with you in an hour.” She hung up and sighed. “I told Sam and Sarah to ward themselves in Dean’s apartment since there’s not enough time.”

John opened his mouth to say something, but the light in the room dimmed. Although, when Dean glanced at the ceiling, he noticed that the lights weren’t even on. It was the natural brightness from outside that had decreased, and that was because…

“Oh my god,” he breathed.

Demons surrounded the house. Those with vessels stalked toward them, their faces leering, while the rest backed them in the forms of writhing smoke. There were so many that, combined, they became a giant cloud of blackness that blotted out the sun.

“A sky of demons,” Castiel said. He stood beside Dean as they gazed out the windows.

Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand and squeezed.  “No matter what happens, we’ve got to get through this. We’ve got to send these bastards back to where they came from.”

Castiel swallowed. “So many innocent vessels…”

“That’s why we seek to injure, not kill,” Pastor Jim said from behind them, where the rest of the family had gathered with grim faces. “Use salt, exorcisms, even holy water. Remember that those are people out there who are trapped, and we need to save them.”

Castiel turned to glare at Michael. “How could you have thought this was a good idea? Were you really so selfish, so full of greed, that you didn’t consider the consequences of your actions?”

Michael shrank beneath Castiel’s withering gaze. “I…I just thought…”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Gabriel interrupted. “We do what we gotta do to survive. And Dean and Cas.” Gone were his round, boyish features, for in their place were the hardened edges of a soldier. “If things get hairy, you get out of here. You’re our last hope. You’ve still got a trial left.”

“I’m not just going to abandon everyone!” Dean said.

“You must,” John said. He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Mary did the same on the other side. “You and Cas take care of yourselves,” she said. “You need to finish the spell.”

A spell that would mean their deaths. But Dean didn’t say that out loud. He couldn’t deny the truth of their words. With the demons sucked back to Hell and the doors sealed up tight, they wouldn’t have to worry about these kinds of problems anymore. The ends outweighed the means.

“Promise?” Mary said, her fingers tightening on his shoulder. She eyed Dean and then Castiel, who both nodded.

“Promise,” Dean mumbled. Mary swept forward to kiss them both on the cheek.

“I’m so proud of you. Whatever happens, know that. And know that I love you.”

“Same for me,” John said.

Dean’s eyes burned, but he blinked back tears. No, this couldn’t be it. He refused to believe this would be it for his family. They’d survived worse. They’d get through this.

They had to.


	35. Chapter 35

Windows rattled. Dust drifted from the ceiling. Bobby’s whole house trembled on its foundation but held as the demons outside hurled another volley of spells. Luckily, with Missouri’s advanced warning, and Bobby and Rufus’s knowledge of obscure wards, they’d managed to survive the first round of attacks, but how long could they last against a seemingly endless barrage?

Two hours before, the demons had cut off the house’s electricity, plunging them into the dark of night. Now, Dean and the others huddled around magically glowing candles that didn’t emit smoke or cause fires. That was Pastor Jim’s doing, and though the light helped, Dean couldn’t get the haunting image of Abaddon’s face out of his mind.

Before the sun had gone down, he’d glimpsed her right in front of the demon hoard, clearly enjoying the show. She’d leered as she glowed with a reddish aura, and the smirk she’d sent him left Dean shivering. When she laughingly called out Michael’s name, Michael had flinched and curled up in the corner. He hadn’t moved since then.

 _They’re not going to stop_ , Dean thought, not for the first time, as he sagged into Bobby’s couch with Castiel. The rest of his family sprawled around them on kitchen chairs they’d dragged into a circle in the living room. In the flickering light, their faces were grim, shadowed.

Conversation had petered out an hour ago after they’d exhausted theories on how the demons were capable of this level of magic. All spells required ingredients and special words, and no magic supply was endless. Yet the demons hadn’t relented, not once. Did that mean their numbers were so great that when one fell, another took its place? Or worse: had the demons found a way to bypass magic’s normal limitations and thus become unstoppable?

Dean had a bad feeling Lucifer was involved in this mess, though neither he nor his demon Meg had made an appearance. In any case, they were screwed. It seemed like the demons could go all night, and who knew what minor modification it would take to blow away Bobby and Rufus’s wards?

Not only that, but Dean knew Castiel was worried about the rest of the Angelus Coven. With the demons here, it begged the question of where their Witches were and if they were even alive. How had the demons secured control? Had they stolen their Witches’ powers somehow?

Needless to say, closing Hell seemed like a really good idea.

So, when Dean stood, his mind made up, Castiel joined him. The family shifted for the first time in a while as Dean braced himself. “We’re going to start the trial,” he announced, his voice loud against the silence except for the muted bursts of the demons’ spells against the walls.

The others knew what the last trial required—Anna had been the one to discover it, after all, and she’d passed on the knowledge to the rest of them. What they didn’t know, though, was that this spell would kill Dean and Castiel.

A lump wedged in Dean’s throat. He wanted so badly to say goodbye, but he couldn’t worry his family. They’d try to stop him, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before they’d decide to make a suicidal charge at the demons. He couldn’t let them do that.

“What do you boys need?” Bobby asked, his voice gruff.

“Syringes,” Castiel said. “And a chair with chain and cuffs so we can secure the demon.” He continued listing items, as he was the one who was more aware of what was going to happen. Dean used the Bond to gather information from Castiel and get his own idea of what the third trial entailed, as he’d been out of the loop for a little while.

Ah. Seemed like fun. If fun involved dying for the greater good.

“You really think you can cure one of them?” John asked, once Castiel had grown quiet and Bobby ran off to gather what he could.

“The information Anna found said that it should work,” Castiel said.

“How are you going to get a demon in here?” Mary asked.

“A special summons,” Castiel said. “Michael,” he addressed to his brother.

Michael, still in the corner with his back to them, didn’t stir.

“Michael, I need you to call Raphael so he can send us Crowley.”

“How’s that possible?” Rufus asked.

“One of my dearest brother’s special abilities,” Gabriel said. Kali sat on his lap in cat form. Gabriel stroked her absentmindedly. “Though I don’t know if he’s got enough oomph left to pull it off.”

“I have enough,” Michael said as he slowly faced them. “This will end it?”

“It’ll close Hell and seal the demons forever,” Castiel confirmed.

Michael stood. In the candlelight, he appeared gaunt, like he already stood at death’s door.

The three of them headed toward the basement door, though Dean paused. “Are you guys going to be okay up here? This trial takes hours.”

“We’ll be fine,” John said. Dean didn’t miss how his parents squeezed their hands together, as if trying to give each other strength.

“And Sam?” Dean asked.

It had been radio silence from Sam and Sarah since the electricity went out, so now they had no idea how the rest of Sioux Falls was faring. Ellen was still out there, not to mention Jo and Ash and Benny and Charlie and Victor and everyone else. Were the demons attacking them, too, or was it a concentrated effort to smoke out Dean and Castiel? There was no way to know. Dean could only mentally send his brother and Sarah his best wishes. Who knew when he’d see them again? He just hoped they would all survive, and his brother would get the Witch and mate and son or daughter he had always dreamed about.

They headed downstairs and started setting up for the trial and Michael’s summons. Bobby appeared with several ingredients and then vanished as Dean set them up on autopilot. He couldn’t really feel his body anymore, though he knew it wasn’t doing well with how his limbs trembled and sometimes it was hard to breathe. At one point, he coughed around a clot in his throat and ended up spitting out blood. No one remarked on it, and Castiel wiped it up without a word. He was solemn-faced and solemn-minded, as Dean could tell he’d shut off feeling from his body as well.

It was their last ditch effort to get the trial done, no matter what.

When they were ready, Dean watched Michael perform his spell. It turned out that the guy had a way of communicating with anyone as long as he used the right attunement of magic. Castiel had to lend him some magic, though, because he was already close to collapsing. Dean recognized the tiny loss that spread through them both, but didn’t say anything as Michael stood in front of a circle of ingredients, closed his eyes, and reached out to Raphael. It was a handy trick for a leader to have—the ability to special-call people at a moment’s notice. Of course, cell phones also existed, but with Raphael who-knows-where, magic would come in handy.  

 _How come Michael never tried to call you after you left the coven?_ Dean asked as the minutes dragged. He leaned on the counter and eyed his Witch across the dimly lit room. A single naked light bulb dangled from the ceiling between them. Dust floated in the air.

 _He tried to,_ Castiel said, _But I know the frequency and managed to block it._

_There’s frequency involved?_

Castiel nodded. _We used to call it ‘Angel Radio.’ When Michael was stronger, he could broadcast messages to all of us at once._

 _Oh. I guess it_ is _useful then._

_Yes. Especially for assembling people and making fast decisions._

_So we’re hoping for what, exactly?_

_Michael is telling Raphael to send us Crowley using a special summons that’ll bypass the wards. Do you see the ingredients Michael’s set up? Those help augment his frequency so when Raphael sends him something, it’ll land exactly at those coordinates._

_Also helpful for a leader, then._

_Yes, back when he_ was _a leader._ Castiel’s lips were pursed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

_Hey, Cas? How do we know Crowley’s not outside with the other demons?_

_We don’t, but it won’t matter. He’ll end up here._

_But that’ll only be_ if _he obeys Raphael._

_There should be enough Bonding magic left to compel him. Hopefully._

_Hopefully is right_ , Dean said as his shoulders sagged. _If not, we’ll just grab a demon from outside. Shouldn’t be hard, though I was really looking forward to fucking up Crowley for what he did._

_You and me both._

Perhaps Dean was just antsy to get started—which seemed crazy, as it was his death he was preparing for—but Michael took forever to get in touch with Raphael. Dean wasn’t sure he’d even succeeded until he suddenly crumpled and a very pissed, smarmy voice cried out at being caught.

“What the bloody Hell?” Crowley demanded, but he was already trapped. Under the ingredients, and spanning the basement floor, was a red-painted devil’s trap. The demon started spouting angry words, but Dean focused on Castiel, who had knelt beside his brother’s unmoving form.

“Michael?” Castiel said as he shook his brother. “Michael!”

Shit. Was Michael breathing?

“Dean,” Castiel said as he cradled his brother to his chest, his voice the combination of heartbroken and resigned.

Dean knelt and checked for Michael’s pulse. He hissed at the coldness of his skin, and the lack of blood pumping through his veins. He shook his head and let his arm drop.

The former leader of the Angelus Coven was dead. The moment felt strangely anticlimactic, but maybe that was because Dean would soon face his own journey into the afterlife, or wherever death would take him.

Still, sadness crept through their Bond, sadness and regret tinged with bitterness that things had ended in such a way. Most of it came from Castiel, though Dean felt his own sliver of sympathy. He knew what it was like to be Unbound. That a status like that had forced Michael to such desperate lengths was terrible, but part of Dean could understand. How awful that Michael had tried, had succeeded partially, only to die after unleashing his failure on his coven and the world.

“Hello!” Crowley interrupted, indignant. “Would someone care to explain what’s going on here?”

“Didn’t get the invite for the demon army, huh?” Dean said as Castiel mutely picked up his brother’s thin body and carried him toward the stairs.

 _I’ll be back,_ Castiel said, and Dean knew he was going to share a mournful moment with Gabriel.

“Demon army? Please. As if that’s necessary.”

Dean grabbed the chair Bobby had provided and pulled it into the devil’s trap.

“What are you doing?” Crowley asked.

“You already know, don’t you?”

“Know what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Crowley. You know about the spell. We’re closing Hell. And guess what the third trial involves?”

Dean enjoyed the way Crowley’s smug smile dropped from his face.

“You really think you can cure a demon?”

“I don’t know, but we sure can try.” With a sudden burst of energy, Dean punched Crowley in the face. Before the demon could recover, he slammed Crowley into the chair and closed the chain cuffs over his wrists, ankles, and neck. “There we go. Snug as a bug in a rug.”

Crowley spat out blood, his jaw already swelling as he strained against his bindings. “It won’t work. It’s never been done before. It’s only hypothetical.”

Dean rolled his shoulders as he picked up a syringe. Might as well get the party started without Castiel. They were connected, so he didn’t technically need to be there anyways.

Dean jammed the syringe into his arm and drew blood. He barely even felt it, though he did worry that he wasn’t human enough to cure Crowley, as the portal in Purgatory had once indicated.

  _It’ll work_ , came Castiel’s voice as he descended the stairs.

 _You okay?_ Dean asked as his Witch came to stand beside him, his whole body slumped.

 _No. But we have to do this._ Castiel took the full syringe from Dean’s hands and plunged the needle into Crowley’s neck.

Crowley growled as Dean and Castiel paused to see what would happen.

 _Did we do something wrong_ — _?_ Dean started after a moment, but was cut off when a searing pain shot up his arm. Glowing fire traveled up his veins, and he knew from their Bond that Castiel had experienced it, too.

The trial was taking effect. Only seven more hours to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, everyone! I hit some major schoolwork and then partial writer's block, but I think I'm okay now. 
> 
> Don't know when the next update will be, but I should hopefully have it soon! I appreciate all your comments and kudos! :)


	36. Chapter 36

An hour passed, and then another, and then another, until time became meaningless.

Dean and Castiel traded off on whose blood they pumped into Crowley. All the while, the demon cursed them, retched, and tore at his bonds to no effect.

Dean sat on the floor, pressed next to Castiel, and watched dully as Crowley began to whimper and then sob. Wow, they were actually curing him, weren’t they?

But Dean couldn’t feel much about that. He registered the cold of the floor seeping into him, a stark contrast to the warmth of Castiel at his side, but everything else felt distant, blurry. The siege continued upstairs, filled with intermittent bangs and yelling, but although he was tempted to go up and help, he couldn’t move. He had to save all his energy just to stand and draw blood every other hour before sinking back to the ground.

His family brought down food and water as they checked on Dean and Castiel repeatedly, but at their increasingly dark expressions, Dean realized they must’ve figured out what was happening with the trial, especially since neither he nor Castiel touched the food or drink. With each syringe, they lost a little bit more of themselves, and that had to be obvious by now. They couldn’t hide it anymore, and Dean was too tired to keep up the charade.

As time wore on, Dean’s focus on reality started to slip, and during lulls, he began reflecting on his life. He’d been lucky, blessed. He’d lived longer than a lot of people despite all kinds of hardships, and he’d been loved. Not only that, but he’d had a Profound Bond with someone he loved more than anything. He only wished he’d had more time to say goodbye, to leave a note and let the people in his life know how much they meant to him.

He managed mumbled words with his mother, at least, as she knelt beside him with tears streaking down her cheeks.

“My sweet boy,” she whispered, cradling his face.

Dean leaned into her touch. “It’s okay, Mom. It’ll be better once it’s over.”

Mary choked on a breath. “You shouldn’t have had to do this. We should’ve found a way that wouldn’t…that wouldn’t…” She broke off on a sob. “No parent should bury a child.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, his own eyes welling. “Had to be done.”

Mary leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you so much.”

After that, each of his family came, one at a time, to say their goodbyes while Dean still had strength left. He was happy that they all said their farewells to Castiel as well, since they were in it together. Castiel’s gratefulness pulsed through their Bond, and Dean smiled at him. It was a pity that his family hadn’t gotten to know Castiel better, but at least they knew enough to love him like Dean did.

Of course, not all of them were as teary as Mary. Bobby was ticked but with tears in his eyes, and John yelled at Dean before cursing himself that he hadn’t prevented this from happening. Rufus was a bit more composed, Missouri’s eyes were unfathomably mournful, and Pastor Jim greeted them with an air of calm serenity as he granted them peace in the afterlife.

Crowley, meanwhile, jeered at them all even as he cried, seemingly conflicted deep within himself. No one paid him any mind except Gabriel, who delivered a powerful punch in his rage that he hadn’t been able to protect his brother. Crowley slammed back in the chair, blood streaming from his broken nose, moaning pitifully.

Luckily, they were able to leaves things on a good note with Gabriel and Kali, though seeing Castiel and Gabriel interact made Dean ache for Sam. He hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to his brother or Sarah, and he would never hold his niece or nephew. Jo was still out there, too, and Ash, and all the cops at the precinct, plus Charlie, and Benny, and Aaron. At least his family would pass on the message to them, and Dean could be comforted that the world would be a safer place after this. It still sucked, though, and would remain his only regret.

Dawn arrived, with thin tendrils of light snaking into the basement through small, filthy windows. Outside, the demon hoard was just barely visible, not having shifted the entire night. But something was different, and it took Dean a moment to realize around the fogginess in his mind that the noise from upstairs had decreased. The attack was slowing. Or was it?

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, his speech slurred. In the background, Crowley was begging for something, anything, but Dean didn’t pay any attention to him. He had just injected his last syringe. Only one of Castiel’s remained, and then they’d recite the final spell before the trial would be over. In less than an hour, the Gates of Hell would be sealed forever.

 _I don’t know_ , Castiel answered mentally, his eyes closed as he rested his head against Bobby’s work bench.

No one had come down to check on them in some time. Should they be worried?

But no, they couldn’t be. Dean had faith in his family. They would hold out long enough for them to finish the trials, once and for all. It was too late to save them, anyways. They were too far gone. Dean could barely feel his body. Some part of him was already floating away, ready for the next life.

A concussive boom shook the house. Dean jumped, and Crowley’s blubbering quieted as he stared around in shock.

“What was that?” Crowley demanded.

Dean shifted to try to stand, but another boom sent him back to the floor. He sprawled against Castiel, who was frowning.

 _Do you know what that is?_ Dean asked as he straightened himself.

_It sounds like…a bomb._

_A bomb? But it’s coming from outside. Reinforcements?_ Did that mean Sam was here? Dean leaned forward, but Castiel grabbed his arm.

 _Dean, we can’t,_ Castiel said, squeezing gently.

_But it might be Sam and the others._

_We don’t know that. And we have to finish the trial._

Dean sagged back down. _I know you’re right. I just wish…_

_I know. I’m sorry._

Dean smiled wearily. _At least we have each other. I couldn’t have done this without you._

_Same._

They leaned forward to kiss, a quick peck on the lips since they didn’t have the energy for much more. They pressed their foreheads together, then drew back. Dean gazed at his Witch. Castiel looked thin, his pale skin stretched over his face, shadows crowding his cheekbones and filling the hollows beneath his eyes. His clothes, like Dean’s, were soiled and blood-stained. Yet, despite all that, Dean thought he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Maybe it was because he imagined he could see the goodness of Castiel’s soul shining through, and he could witness the love reflected in his Witch’s eyes. Dean may not have lived a long life, but he’d lived a full one.

 _I love you_ , Castiel said.

 _I love you, too,_ Dean said, his exhaustion creeping into his mental voice. Even as another series of booms echoed and he flinched, part of him wanted to just close his eyes and be done with it.

 _It’s not much longer now_ , Castiel said.

 _I know._ Dean smiled again. _I’m thinking about our dream from what, yesterday? The day before?_

 _Ah, yes. A very pleasant dream._ Castiel smiled as well, a soft, sad expression on his face.

 _Part of me wishes we’d never left,_ Dean said. _I could’ve stayed in that dream forever._

Castiel nodded. _I know what you mean._ Suddenly, he tensed.

 _What? What’s wrong?_ Dean asked, but Castiel wasn’t looking at him. There was a strange glint in his Witch’s eyes. _What is it?_

Castiel stared blankly for another moment, his brows furrowed, before he focused back on Dean. _I have an idea. It’s crazy and impossible but it might work. Maybe. But probably not._

_Gee, don’t get a guy’s hopes up or anything._

Castiel smiled and then pulled Dean into an embrace. _I’ll do my best. Trust me on that._

_I trust you, Cas. Always will._

_Good. Then let me think about it._

_You realize there’s only ten minutes left until the last injection._

_It’ll have to be enough then. Timing is everything. It’ll have to be perfect._

Though Dean was dying to know what Castiel’s plan was and what it was for, he sensed that he couldn’t help. This was up to his Witch, and if anything, he believed in Castiel’s genius. The guy was brilliant. He’d figure out whatever it was.

The timer went off. For the last injection of the trial, Dean and Castiel rose together. Castiel had been mouthing to himself for the past few minutes, but stilled now as they prepared for the end.

Before them, Crowley was silent. He looked like shit—blood, tears, and sweat covered every inch of him, and his skin was red and splotchy as he continued to regain his humanity.

“Please, please,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I beg of you. Just…stop. I can’t do this. I can’t face it.”

“This is the end, Crowley,” Castiel said. He lifted a syringe and brought it to his arm. Dean gripped his free hand as Castiel drew blood.

Crowley squirmed. “No, no, please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you or your friends! I swear, I didn’t mean to!”

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” Dean said. “And now you’ll pay for everyone you’ve hurt.”

“No, please, no!”

Time seemed to slow as Castiel jammed the needle into Crowley’s neck and released.

This was it. That’s all folks. Just a few words and _bam_ , they’d be worm food. Unbidden, tears stung Dean’s eyes. He was okay with his death, really. He just wished…he just wished…

Castiel dropped the syringe and faced Dean. They held hands and stared into each other’s eyes.

“I can do this,” Castiel said.

“Whatever it is, hell yeah you can.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Crowley screamed and thrashed as Dean and Castiel opened their mouths and spoke the last words to the spell.

Instantly, they fell to their knees, though their hands were still connected. Searing pain shot up Dean’s arm, then his other, then fire filled every limb. His nerves sang as heat and cold waged a war on his muscles, on his blood. His vision wavered and his last sight was Castiel before it whited out. He tried to breathe but couldn’t. His lungs collapsed, his heart pulsed frantically, but somehow in his blindness, he could feel one of Castiel’s hands tug free. It locked onto his left shoulder, and an odd tingling power gripped him hard through the onslaught.

 _Castiel_ , Dean said, or at least he meant to.

All sensation stopped, and Dean knew no more.

* * *

 

 A clear, blue sky and hot sun greeted him. A short distance away came the sound of waves crashing to shore. Something warm yet coarse lay beneath him, and as he shifted, he realized it was sand.

Dean lay on a beach. Memories returned, but they didn’t shock him.

He was dead. He hadn’t gone to Purgatory, so that was a plus. At least that answered Castiel’s question of where they’d end up.

And speaking of, where was his Witch? If they were in Heaven, surely Castiel would be here with him, sharing in their unique brand of paradise. They had a Profound Bond. Some might even call them soulmates. Castiel had to be around here somewhere.

But as Dean surveyed the area, he didn’t see anyone. Behind him rose a bluff of waving grass, and on either side, the beach stretched endlessly. The ocean extended into the horizon, and Dean keenly felt the distance of it all. He was alone.

Movement caught his eye. Approaching from the left on the beach was a dark figure no bigger than a speck, but it grew larger the more time passed. Eventually, it resolved itself into a human shape, and then Dean knew who it was. He shoved to his feet and raced forward.

“Cas!” He waved frantically, and his Witch called back to him.

They ran to each other like some romcom with sappy music and slow motion, but Dean honestly couldn’t bring himself to care how ridiculous they looked. He had found his whole world. He didn’t need anything else.

They hit each other with such force that they fell to the ground, but Dean didn’t register any pain. Being dead wasn’t so bad after all.

They rolled around for a while, laughing and getting covered in sand but needing to touch each other all the same. It wasn’t sexual, but intimate, life-affirming. They were together in the afterlife, and that was all that mattered.

When they finally stopped and sat up to stare out at the ocean, Castiel started laughing again. He shook his head. “I can’t believe it worked.”

Dean frowned at him. “What worked? I mean, we’re not in Purgatory, so that’s good.”

Castiel met his gaze. “Wait, you think we’re dead? Because we’re not.”

“Huh?”

“Think of something. Anything. What do you want right now?”

“Uh. You. Just you.”

Castiel sighed, but grinned fondly. “Yes, thank you, Dean. But something else. Something tangible.”

“Like a sandwich?”

“Yes.” Castiel held up his hands, and between one blink and the next, a ham and cheese sandwich appeared on his palms.

“Holy shit. You can manipulate Heaven? Dude!”

“It’s not Heaven. It’s a _dream_ ,” Castiel said. “See?” The sandwich disappeared. “We’re in a dream.”

Dean blinked. “What? But how?”

“You gave me the idea. Just before the spell kicked in, I brought us into a dream.”

“You can do that?”

“I guess so. I poured all of my magic into it.”

So that must’ve been when he gripped Dean’s shoulder. “Does that mean the spell failed?”

“No. The trials succeeded. Hell is closed forever.”

“But it was supposed to kill us.”

“Yes, by taking our souls. But I made a copy of our souls and put them in a dream. Here. Us.”

“So we’re copies? I’m not following you.”

“The spell needed to have our souls in order to take effect, right? So, just as it activated, I copied our souls and brought the real us into a dream. The spell took the copies, but our real souls ended up here."

"Wow. That's...crazy. How did you manage that?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I was desperate. I threw everything into it, and it worked. The spell worked. At least, I think it did. I can only assume it all went well because we’re here, exactly where I meant us to be. Otherwise, we’d be—”

“Dead,” Dean said. “Which we’re not.”

“Right.” Castiel waved his hand and they sat in a field with kites flying overhead.

Dean’s mouth fell open at the familiar setting. “Your dreamscape. Are you sure this isn’t Heaven?”

“I promise you it’s not.”

“So…we’re alive.”

“Yes. Our bodies are alive. In the real world, we’re just sleeping. Your family will have to wake us up, but then we’ll be fine.”

“Fine. As in no aftereffects? No health problems?”

“The trials are over. They shouldn’t affect us anymore.”

Dean fell back into the grass and followed the pirouetting of an orange kite as it dipped through the sky. “Oh my god. We did it. Cas, we really did it.”

 Castiel lay beside him and they shifted onto their sides to look at each other.

“You’re so amazing,” Dean said. He kissed Castiel on the face, punctuating each word with a press of his lips. “So. Fucking. Brilliant.” He scooted back and propped up on an elbow.

“You’re the one who gave me the idea,” Castiel said.

“And you pulled it off with no time to spare.”

They smiled at each other until Dean’s emotions spilled over. Tears leaked from his eyes and dribbled down his chin.

“We’re going to get to see Sam’s kid,” he said, his voice choked. “I’m going to be an uncle.”

Castiel grinned so hard, his gums showed. “And you’ll be the best uncle.”

“Damn straight I will be. That kid won’t know what hit ’em.”

Castiel laughed and Dean buried his face in his neck. He held on tight. “Love you so much. You’re everything.”

“I love you, too, Dean, from this world to the next. Always and forever.”

“We really are in a romcom right now,” Dean mumbled and made a dismissive noise when Castiel asked him to repeat what he’d said. “Not important.” He lifted his head. “Hey, assuming that our family’s alright, that means we’ll have some time till they wake us up, right?”

“They’re alright. I’m sure they are,” Castiel said, then absorbed the rest of Dean’s words. A slow smirk spread over his face. “Why? Did you have an idea for how to pass the time?”

Dean was worried about his family, yes, but the elation at being alive was overpowering. Besides, there was nothing they could do to help in the real world. They were here until someone woke them up, so all they could do was wait.

Dean straddled Castiel. “I have plenty of ideas. For example, I imagine a big, soft bed…”

Castiel smiled into their kiss. “I think I can help with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like there will be one more chapter/epilogue! Wow, I can't believe this story is almost over. Thanks for sticking with me!


	37. Chapter 37

“No! That’s not how a bishop moves. It goes _diagonally_.”

Dean frowned. What the hell was that?

A low grumble filled the room, then a sigh.

“You’re getting them confused with rooks. They go _straight_. Opposite the bishops, actually.”

That didn’t sound like Castiel. Did that mean…?

Dean opened his eyes, or tried to, as they were gummed shut with mucus. He reached up to rub at them and processed the slide of a blanket. Okay, so he was in another bed. Also, someone was lying next to him, and there were two other people in the room.

He sucked in a massive breath and then groaned as he cleared his eyes. He blinked up at a dirty ceiling and recognized the crack in the plaster. Bobby’s house. He was lying in the guest room of Bobby’s house, and—he shifted his neck on the pillow—yep, Castiel was beside him, ramrod straight and unmoving. Somehow, that didn’t worry him.

“Dean?”

Dean planted his hands to try to lever himself into a sitting position, only to find Aaron right there at his bedside.

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy, huh?” Even as he said it, his face split into a huge grin. “You’re awake. That’s awesome.”

Dean opened his mouth, but it felt like it was stuffed with cotton. A bad taste lingered, and he coughed.

“Let me get you some water,” Aaron said, and disappeared out the door.

Dean managed to prop himself up on his elbows as he surveyed the room. Aaron’s Golem, Greg, sat stiffly in a chair beside a small table where a chess game had been set up. Ah, that explained the words he heard earlier.

Aaron returned and pressed the cup into his hands. Dean gulped the water greedily, not caring that some spilled down his front.

He sighed once he’d downed the whole thing. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Um. What’s going on?” he asked, or rather, croaked. He got the sense he hadn’t used his voice in a while.

“It’s been a month since we won against the demons,” Aaron said as he pulled up a chair.

Dean’s eyes widened. “A _month_?”

Aaron nodded. “When we found you guys after completing the trials, you were dead. Like, seriously dead.” He cleared his throat. “It was…pretty awful.”

“But we weren’t dead.”

“We know that now, but your souls were gone, apparently. Or, mostly gone. What were we supposed to think?”

Dean frowned. “Wait, how were _you_ there?”

“I went to visit you at your apartment and your brother and his Witch were holed up inside, fighting off a hoard of demons. I set Greg loose on them. Apparently he’s real good at exorcisms.” He smirked with pride. “I’m figuring out how to teach him all sorts of stuff, though he hasn’t quite mastered chess yet.” His smile faded. “Anyways, when the demons smoked out, they joined the others bombarding Bobby’s house here, which wasn’t good. But then Jess and Anna showed up, _packing_.”

“Jess and Anna? They’re okay?”

“More than okay. They’d been on the run, but working on these demon bombs, right? They found a way to adjust them so only the demon part would be obliterated and the human host would be saved.”

Dean scooted into a seated position. “No way. Awesome.” So that’s what the booms must’ve been near the end. Jess and Anna’s demon bombs detonating outside.

“Yeah. We made good headway on destroying them until, of course, you guys finished the trials and they all got sucked back to Hell.”

“So it really worked.”

“Yeah, it did. Pretty incredible with all the flying smoke and screeching and pyrotechnics.” Aaron shook his head, abruptly somber. “I just wish you’d told me that the trials could’ve killed you. Or at least…said goodbye.”

“I’m sorry. It all happened so fast…”

Aaron sighed. “I know. But when we all thought you were dead…” He clenched his jaw. “Well, the hosts are all back to their normal lives now, as much as they can be. I’m sure they’re probably seeking more therapy after our explanations. But they’re safe.”

“Good.”

“And you’re awake, which is…really good.” Aaron smiled, and it stayed this time. “Also, can I say I’m happy you woke up on my watch? It’s been awful boring.”

Dean grinned. “Good to see you, Aaron.”

Aaron gripped his hand and squeezed. “Yeah.”

“So how did you guys figure out we weren’t dead?”

“I guess during your, um, death ritual, Gabriel—he’s Cas’s brother, right?—noticed that a teeny, tiny part of Castiel was still active. That neither of you were completely hollow inside, but that a shred of your souls hung on. Sarah was the one who figured out what had happened. Then it was a matter of trying to coax you guys back to life.” He paused. “I’m not magical or anything, but I’m guessing this room feels like a livewire with all the spells everyone used to help bring you back.”

 Now that he mentioned it, Dean did feel a pulse of electricity that raised the hair on his arms. His nose itched with the sensation, and he suddenly sneezed.

“Bless you,” came a deep voice, and Dean turned to see his Witch squinting at him.

“Cas!” he said as he hug-tackled him. He yanked Castiel up into a seated position and, with his hands braced on his Witch’s face, kissed him hard on the lips.

“I’ll, uh, give you guys a minute,” Aaron said as he stood and ushered Greg out of the room.

Dean pulled back to take in the healthy sheen of his Witch’s face, the lack of shadows under his eyes, the rosiness of his cheeks. “We’re back,” he said. “They brought us back.”

Castiel nodded. “I heard. And demons will never hurt anyone ever again.”

“I wonder what happened to Crowley?”

“If we cured him, then he’s human. He’s not a threat anymore.”

A chorus of loud voices interrupted Dean before he could ask anything else, and the door to their room burst open to admit _everyone_.

For the next few hours, Dean and Castiel were hugged, kissed, smacked (good-naturedly), sworn at, laughed at, and just generally loved by the best people in their life. They all had a big meal in Bobby’s dining room, and then even _more_ people ventured in to give Dean and Castiel a piece of their minds.

By the end of the meal, Dean was exhausted but overwhelmed with emotion. His and Castiel’s whole family was here, and they had known to invite Benny and Charlie as well, and even some of the cops from the precinct, like Donna, Victor, and Jody. Ash and Jo were back in town, and seeing Sam reunited with Jess made tears burn in Dean’s eyes. Everyone was joyous, ecstatic, and grateful. They hated that Dean and Castiel had nearly sacrificed themselves, but they understood their motivations, in the end.

Finally, when Mary shooed them out to rest, Dean and Castiel returned to their bed in Bobby’s guest room. Dean face-planted on the pillow as the bed dipped and Castiel settled beside him.

Dean turned his head so he could breathe.

“That was exhausting,” Castiel said.

“But we’re alive, right?”

“Right.” Castiel rolled onto his side, and they smiled at each other, warm and languid.

Then, Dean gasped. “Oh my god. I just realized something.”

“What?”

“I missed my birthday. I’m 26.”

Castiel huffed out a relieved breath. He sidled close to Dean and cupped his face tenderly. Their gazes met. “Well, then. Happy birthday, Dean.”

  

* * *

 

Epilogue - Four Years Later

“Happy birthday to Dean, happy birthday to you!” they finished.

Dean leaned forward and blew out his birthday candles.

His family and friends clapped, but none more so than his four year old nephew, Adam, who was currently a baby white-bellied spider monkey reclining on the countertop. He’d found what looked like pot lids and banged them together, which had them all covering their ears and wincing.

“Come on, let’s not bother everyone with the loud noise,” Sam said as he approached his son, hands outstretched.

But Adam was in a rebellious stage, and the one good thing about having a giant as a father was that he made for good climbing. He leapt and clung on to Sam’s clothes as he scrambled up to wrap his legs around his father’s neck. He combed tiny fingers through Sam’s long hair.

“Told you you should cut it,” Dean said.

Sam started to say something, and after a flinch when his son yanked on his hair, he shot a nasty look in Dean’s direction.

Dean just grinned and elbowed Jess who sat beside him, her stomach swollen with his next niece or nephew.

 “He’s sort of looking more and more like a monkey nowadays, huh?” Dean said.

“We’ll convert him yet,” Jess said with a wink.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Sam said. He grunted when Adam reverted back to human form on his shoulders. He had the same light coloring as his mother, but the inquisitive eyes of his father.

“Is it time for cake now?” Adam asked.

“We didn’t finish singing yet,” Mary said, bringing over forks and plates to the kitchen table.

“But we did the birthday song already,” Adam said.

“And now we have to figure out how old Dean is,” Castiel said from Dean’s right. He led the chorus of, ‘How Old Are You Now?’, skipping a few ages as Dean had reached a whopping three decades.

“Yeah, geez, I’m 30. I’m old, I get it!” Dean said when they finally reached the right number. A cheer went up and his eyes swept through the crowd: his parents, Bobby, Rufus, Ellen, Benny, Aaron and his boyfriend Linus (who’d fortunately or unfortunately been brought into the supernatural fold after a nasty skinwalker incident), Charlie and her new best friend Jo (Dean wasn’t sure how that happened, but Jo was apparently trying to teach her to be a Witch), Ash, Gabriel raiding the cookies in the kitchen with Kali looking on and rolling her eyes, Anna, Sarah, the mated family of Sam, Jess, and Adam, and finally Castiel.

Four years later, and Dean had everything he could ever need.

His Witch grinned at him, his eyes shining. _Happy birthday, Dean. And many more._

Many more indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind comments and kudos! 
> 
> I have had the best time writing this story and sharing it with you, and I'm so grateful for your support. I'm sad that this story is over, but we'll have to see what else my muse comes up with next. I just got hit with an idea last night, actually, so perhaps it will become another longfic...hmm... I never quite know what my muse will want to do!
> 
> Anyways, thanks again for everything. You guys are the best and I love you all! <3
> 
> Feel free to talk to me on tumblr if you have any comments, questions, or ideas for ficlets (which I am always open to)! You can find me at my tumblr: through-shadows-falling


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